REAL Love
by TheBetterPoison
Summary: Mercedes is a successful Chief Executive & founder of her own magazine company. She's married, has friends, & has the ability to weave in & out of wining & dining with the elite crowd. She's also a woman living with a secret and as they say: What's done in the dark comes to light. However, with the truth comes healing, & in her case, love. Rated M for violent & explicit content.
1. A Penthouse Is Not a Home

**-January-**

"Look, we're going around in circles and I'm tired of it—just get her booked. We're not raising the offer past five-thousand."

Mercedes slammed her phone down and immediately lowered her head into her hands, letting out a sigh. Not many women sailed through college, received their business degree and became CEO of a successful magazine company they launched, all by age thirty. She had made a name for herself, as well as her unique magazine, _REAL—_a magazine that prided itself on highlighting women (and men) of different races, sizes and backgrounds. Almost every day in her office was a hellish ball of stress, but she frequently told herself that it was worth it in the end. Over the four years that the magazine had gained traction, her office received countless letters and emails from everyday readers, as well as a handful of celebrities who read, endorsed and have been featured in _REAL_. The vast majority of the letters consisted of people thanking Mercedes or particular staff members for creating this magazine, and rising above the trend of being a gossip, tabloid trash magazine.

Once upon a time, Mercedes had considered pursuing a gossip magazine, but she decided against it. Tabloid magazines were easy and already excessive on the newsstands. She'd done her research in figuring out what worked and what didn't work; from there she created the kind of magazine she would like to read and see more of in grocery stores and on street vender carts. She started out taking out a loan and renting a small work space, hiring on one of her best friends as official chief editor and unofficial consultant and sidekick. From there, she interviewed and hired the best journalists, editors, and photographers she could find and started a small, functioning magazine company. With the growth of _REAL_'s popularity, came room for growth in the company, and in two years' time she was able to expand her staff and her work space to a very prestige building in a Los Angeles business park.

Two knocks on the door of her spacious office pulled her out of her recollections and frequent affirmation. "What?"

"It's me, 'Cedes," she heard through the door.

"Oh." Her tone immediately shifted to a more amicable one while she raised her head. "Come in."

The door swung open and her best friend and still chief editor strolled into the room, donning black slacks and a slate grey button-up that hugged his biceps whenever he bent his arms. His hair was mostly a dark head of peach fuzz but he habitually ran his hand up the center of his head where his mohawk used to be.

"Hey, so we got that Christian Siriano guy's interview ready to go for next month's issue. Once the photos are ready for print, I'll have the draft of the fashion spread on your desk. Also, Sugar's planning to have the travel review ready for my review in the morning, my editor's note is done, and Santana's on her way back from Sacramento with her interview with the governor."

"Thanks, Puck," she tiredly replied.

He sank into one of the two lounge chairs on the other side of her desk with a concerned look. "You okay?"

Mercedes closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and as she let it out she opened her eyes again with a smile that never touched her eyes. "I'm just tired. Long day. Lots of crazies who can't make simple things happen without giving me a headache first."

Puck nodded slowly and smirked, "Ah. Well let me know if I need to go light a fire under some asses for you, 'cause you know I will."

"Ohh, yes I do," she agreed chuckling. "Thanks Puck. I got it. But I think I'm gonna call it a day here and try to get some stuff done from home.

Puck nodded more sharply this time, "No problem. I can cover things here."

Mercedes was bent over in her chair, gathering up her purse and brief case from beneath her desk, "I know you can. Just don't let me come back to this being _Sports Illustrated_ two-point-oh."

She sat upright again with her hands full and then stood, smirking at her friend.

"Hey, I keep telling you that it wouldn't be a bad issue. You'd at least up your number of male readers."

"Uh-huh," she feebly agreed, making her way around her desk with her fingers closed around her keys.

"When are you gonna feature your husband? Maybe get an interview on him for the sports article for next month. I bet he'd have loads to say."

She faltered in her haste to leave and kept her back to Puck. "No…I don't think he'd be interested." Her four-inch heels click-clacked across the tile floor and her wide hips swished inside her navy pencil skirt as she walked onward. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep! Oh—Mercedes I almost forgot." said Puck, turning around and standing to face her again.

Mercedes stopped and turned on the balls of her feet, staring at him with a silent response.

"HR called. There was a little change-up in the janitorial staff over the past few days so they just wanted to late us know, in case we were here late and saw some different faces."

"Oh…okay, thanks. And really Puck, thanks for stepping up. I'm sure your job will be a lot easier once Tina returns from maternity leave and you don't have to be my assistant too."

"'Course it will be, but what's the fun in a job if it's easy?" he joked.

Mercedes smirked and turned back towards the door. "See you, Puck."

"Later, Mercedes!"

She walked to the elevator, feeling a twinge of guilt for her unwillingness to hire a temp while her friend and assistant was on maternity leave. She knew her reason for not yielding to the typical; when it came to her job, she ran a very tight ship and had a small circle of individuals whom she trusted when it came to those who worked closely with her within the company. And out of the small circle of friends, Puck and Tina were the two she was closest to. She knew Puck could handle it but it honestly wasn't fair for her to burden him so.

The elevator dinged once she reached the first floor. She was wished a 'goodnight by the receptionist and nodded, 'Good night' to the woman in response. As per usual, her eyes briefly glanced over the indoor moniker, mounted in steel letters down the right side of the entrance:

_**R**__emembering and  
__**E**__mbracing  
__**A**__ll  
__**L**__ives_

That had been the goal of her magazine from the beginning, and she strived to maintain it in every issue published over the past four years. She had done spreads on international fashion, politics, everyday home life, interior design, film, parenting, holidays, the performing arts, lifestyles for various sexual identities and orientations, military families, pets, religions or lack-thereof, and so-on. The topics featured had been repeated from time to time, but the person interviewed for it was almost never repeated—not for the same subject at least.

She did her best to leave thoughts of work on the back burner for her drive home. After reaching the parking lot and setting her things in the passenger's seat of her sleek, dark purple Chevy Camaro, she started up her car and began to backup but found herself slamming on the brakes suddenly. A beat-up '95 Jetta squealed past, nearly scraping the back end of her car. After getting over the initial shock, Mercedes slammed her hand on the horn, and then promptly jammed her finger on the window button to roll it down.

"Have you lost your damn mind? You almost hit me!"

She didn't even know who she was talking to because the driver continued on. All she saw was the top half of the back of a dark blond head, she half-assumed to belong to a male. After he screeched on, she let out a vehement sigh, slowly crept further in reverse, and then threw the car in drive to peel out at an unnecessarily fast speed.

* * *

Upon arriving home, her anger from nearly being rear-ended fizzled and a hollow feeling began to take over Mercedes. She parked her car in the assigned space of the penthouse garage, grabbed her things and walked to the elevator that took her straight to the eighth floor. She and her husband shared the floor with one another penthouse, but she made her way to the right and unlocked the door, letting herself in. The home, in all honesty, was not terribly inviting. It looked predictable—like something straight out of the movies that any rich couple with a penthouse would have; steel kitchen appliances, stiff, dark, uninviting furniture, heated tile floors, splashes of dark colors here and there, modern lighting fixtures, and angular wall hangings. She convinced herself that it was expected, or rather, her husband told her so.

"_I'm a lawyer—I don't want people over here thinking we live in some kinda zoo with animal print and all that shit_," he had gruffly told her. "_And we don't need all that dumb decorating crap in our home._"

She ceded to his final decision in silence. Sure, a colorful rug or some family photos on the walls and tables weren't _necessary_, but they would at least allow their home to feel less like an office and more like a warm, personal space. At least that's how she felt homes should feel. But she didn't argue with him further—at that point in their marriage, she had known better than to argue with him.

As she stepped out of her heels and padded to the kitchen, she went to the liquor cabinet and decided to pour herself some Scotch as a post-work relaxer. She downed the content of her short glass, rinsed it out and put everything away before taking herself and her briefcase back to hers and her husband's bedroom. She let her head fall back on her pillow with an exhausted sigh, and closed her eyes, giving herself just a minute, at least, to do nothing and worry over nothing. But once the minute or so passed, she opened her eyes again, sat up and pulled her laptop out of her briefcase. She and Puck made a commitment to include personal notes in every issue of REAL, expressing their gratitude for their reader's loyalty, as well as the guests who appear in each issue. Puck had his finished, and now it was time for her to finish up hers. She pulled open the document and saw that she'd only written two sentences. The text cursor blinked impatiently at her, and after a moment, she sighed and closed the laptop up again, setting it on the floor with her briefcase. She knew a minute of relaxation wasn't enough; a nap was very necessary, so she pulled off her suit jacket, unbuttoned the top of her silver silk blouse and curled up on her half of the bed for a nap.

It took some time for her mind to stop buzzing with thoughts of work, but eventually she was able to slip into unconsciousness. Unfortunately her nap ended much too soon, as she was abruptly jerked awake, her wrist seized away from her. She gasped and snapped her eyes open, bewildered by the impromptu awakening.

"Get up, Mercedes!" she heard a harsh, deep, familiar voice demand of her.

She gasped again, startled and used her free hand to rub her made-up eyes, "Wh…what is it?"

"The hell were you thinking, leaving your shoes in the hall like that? I could've tripped and broke my fucking ankle, comin' home to that."

She sifted through the haze of her sleepy mind and then remembered that she'd abandoned her silver pumps near the front door. "Shane, I—"

"You what?" he barked in an intimidating tone. "Huh?" he asked, begging her to say something else.

"I'm sorry," she uttered in a quavering whisper.

As much as she didn't want to, she kept her eyes on Shane's dark pair, watching and waiting with fearful uncertainty as to what he was going to say or do next. She watched his large chest rise and full vehemently beneath his three-piece designer suit for several breaths. Finally he shoved her hand back to her and demanded through gritted teeth, "Get your damn shoes up and put 'em in their place."

She clenched her teeth behind her grimacing lips and nodded, getting up out of bed. There were so many times where she wondered to herself, when she lost her strength, light and self-confidence behind closed doors, but she never found the answer, nor did she know how to get it back. As she hooked her index and middle finger around the heels of her pumps and carried them back to the bedroom, she found herself pondering this thought with feeble curiosity. She had all but given up on trying to understand when and how exactly, Mercedes Jones-Tinsley submitted to a dual life—a a successful business woman who appeared to have it all to the public, while a truly broken and sometimes beaten woman was caged in marriage that was nothing more than a lie housed under one roof.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! As always, your reviews fuel me to write more! I know I'm crazy for starting yet another fic but I've had this & another fic idea on my mind for a while, so I figure they ought to be shared! Sorry for any errors. I'll continue this fic if enough people are interested & stay interested.**_


	2. I Say A Little Prayer For Me

-Flashback-

"_Babe I'm so close, I can almost touch it!"_

_Shane chuckled dryly, "So what's holding you back?"_

_Mercedes sighed, "This stupid loan. I'll have to pay it back over the next five years but in order to get it and get my start, I'll have to get a co-signer here in California."_

"_Your friend, Noah's helping you with this thing. Why don't you ask him?"_

"_I would but…honestly? I love Puck to death but the boy knows next-to-nothing about being financially responsible. I need someone I can trust with this."_

"_Baby why are you in such a rush to start this business? You're doin' great at the consulting office and we're only 25."_

"_I know but I told you—I can almost touch it. And this is my dream coming true. Look I didn't make it happen doing back-up vocals out here. No matter what I did, I wasn't getting signed. But this…" she held up a thick folder full of papers, "…this is giving me another way to still inspire and uplift people. I know this magazine's a good idea. I just need to get it off the ground."_

_Shane looked up from the government book in his lap. He had one more year left in law school and was hoping to get as fortunate a start on his career as his wife had gotten. They had been married for two years at this point, though it felt like time had flown a lot faster. He and Mercedes only dated for seven months before he dropped to one knee and presented her with a single carat princess cut diamond engagement ring. Their parents expressed blatant disapproval for their sudden engagement, but neither he nor Mercedes cared. Well…he didn't care; at 23, you were certain you knew enough of what you wanted to just go for it with or without your parent's seal of approval. Mercedes however, was obviously disappointed that her parents weren't supporting their marriage, but she told Shane she loved him enough to go on with the nuptials. _

_They eloped five months after the engagement and were going strong the first couple of years. The only support Shane received from his parents was funding through law school. But as Mercedes excelled, first with her business consulting apprenticeship, and then her magazine, after getting off the ground, the ideal image of a happy, successful life only developed into a half-truth._

_He wanted to be happy for her. He knew he should be happy for her success and triumphs. But he'd grown bitter. Envious. Resentful. And in four short years, he'd grown abusive, wearing down Mercedes' strong, independent spirit. He didn't know how she managed to maintain composure in front of the public because he knew better than anyone that she was quite the actress. At first he felt guilty for taking out his struggles on her, but when she accepted it, he kept his foot in that door and eventually flooded it wide open, losing himself in the process._

_After several attempts at passing the bar, he was finally able to start an internship at a sports attorney's office in LA. He assisted on cases for minor league baseball players, college football and basketball players and amateur soccer and hockey athletes. Only one year ago—five years into his marriage—did he begin taking on his own clients and cases, solo. And the long, stressful days in the courtroom only added to his already hardening, harsh spirit._

_He remembered one day when he'd come home from the office. It was one of his last clients he was assisting to represent as an intern, who was trying to receive compensation for a game injury. No matter how many ways they tried to prepare for the case, it seemed like the man in question was going to walk away with little, if anything to compensate for his injury. He was frustrated, and found himself questioning why—other than the money—did he pursue law. It was a hellish job that only looked slightly glamorous on T.V. he called it quits for the day and decided to go home and get himself acquainted with the liquor cabinet that evening._

_And that's when it happened. The first time. Upon arriving home, he saw Mercedes sitting in the living room, alone and expressionless. Yet, there was an expression on her face. It was the look of a woman who had been broken, and tired, and empty. Her feet were out of her heels, her hair was spilled messily on either side of her face and she was cupping an untouched class of wine, all the while staring lifelessly at the T.V. that wasn't on._

_Without looking at him. Without truly acknowledging his presence, she whispered, "We need to talk," in a hoarse, monotonous voice._

_Deep down, he knew, but it didn't prevent him from sternly asking, "About what?"_

_Finally, she thawed, lowering her grip on her wine glass to the stem and setting it on the table in front of her. She still hadn't met his incensed gaze but she ran her hands up her face and pushed her hair back, "This isn't working, Shane…us. It's not. You've—"_

"_I've _what_?" he demanded, making long strides into the living room to tower over her._

"_You've changed," she whispered. "I've changed—we've both changed. Things aren't… the way they used to be, and I think it'd be better if we just…ended it."_

_She finally looked up at him, turning all of the hurt, sorrow, and brokenness in her eyes on him. Something pierced at his heart but he steeled himself, refusing to show any sort of weakness—not to her, or anyone. _

"_You want a divorce," he asked though it didn't sound much like a question._

"_Yes," she answered. It became clear to him that she had given this a lot of thought. Not more than one pause passed before she had given her answer. _

_This sparked immediate rage in Shane. His lips curled into a snarl and for the first time, he raised his hand and struck the back of it down and across Mercedes' face._

_The gasping whimper that left her, sent another needle-sharp pierce at his heart but he ignored it and glared down at her. "Fuck you, Mercedes! We're not getting a divorce. I haven't changed," he remorselessly lied. "But you…" he huffed a humorless chuckle, "Yeah you've changed. I help you get that goddamn loan and now that your magazine's flying high in the sky, you think you're too good for me? You don't need me anymore? Bullshit! You better think again before you come talking to me about ending this shit."_

_He stormed down the hallway, leaving her sobbing form at the couch and only returned long enough to toss her pillow and pajamas at her. "Don't come in the bedroom tonight."_

* * *

Mercedes sat down at her office desk with a sigh. She'd been in meetings almost all day the next day, battling a headache and being bombarded with calls from her husband. She managed to throw back a Zoloft and two aspirin before receiving another call from him.

"I've been in meetings all day, Shane," she told him tiredly.

"Well how long are your damn meetings?"

She sighed into the phone, "They've been back-to-b—"

"Don't you _fucking_ sigh at me, Mercedes," he demanded through gritted teeth.

"Shane, I—"

"Be quiet. I've been trying to reach you all day and now that you've finally decided to answer when I call, you think you get to talk over me? Nah it's not going down like that."

Mercedes shut her eyes and lowered her head, keeping her cell phone near her ear. "Okay. What did you want?"

"Did you get a test?"

"No, I was gonna get one after I left the office."

"Good," he curtly replied. "And we're going to a benefit tomorrow night."

Her head raised again. "But I can't. I h—"

"Excuse me?" he snapped.

"Shane, I can't," she adamantly repeated. "I have a million things I need to get done here before Monday. I'm sorry but you'll have to go without me."

Telling Shane 'no' for a work-related reason always resulted in the same response for her over the past four years. The only thing that changed was the tone that he delivered it in—which of course, had grown more aggressive over the years.

"Go without you? Did you hit your head, bitch? You _must've_ hit your head! You _must've_ if you think you're gonna blow me off for that job! You know goddamn well you wouldn't have _shit_ if it weren't for me."

The hand that wasn't holding her phone went up to hold her lowered head. If she wasn't already feeling drained enough, this argument with Shane was surely extracting what energy she had left. "It wasn't just you, Shane," she quietly countered.

For a moment it seemed like Shane's end of the line had gone dead, but out of nowhere, he snarled, "You know you got a lot of fucking nerve. I'M the one that helped you get that loan. You got one more year and if you don't fucking watch yourself, you gonna lose it all. The house, the company, and me!"

"Don't say that," she whispered.

"Then check yourself! Get your ass home before seven. And don't forget the test."

Before she could respond, the line went dead. She pulled the phone away and looked at the screen just to make sure, and then dropped the phone on her desk, along with her head, letting out an exasperated sigh. Most people looked forward to the weekend—even Puck had gone home early today, but for Mercedes, she much preferred her work days over the weekend. At work, she operated strongly and fiercely and felt good about it. At home…the strength and ferocity was robbed from her. She was a prop in her own home and had all but given up on praying for a way out.

_Knock, knock._

She looked up and before receiving an answer, the door opened.

"Excuse you," she loudly spoke, standing up and narrowing her eyes at the person who came in the room. Upon noting the grey jumpsuit and cart of cleaning supplies, Puck's words from the previous day echoed in her head. "_HR called. There was a little change-up in the janitorial staff over the past few days so they just wanted to late us know, in case we were here late and saw some different faces_."

She kept her gaze sharp, staring up and down at this new janitor to study him—particularly his face. He had a mess of dirty blond hair, bright, friendly eyes—blue or green, maybe—and a pair of plump pink lips. Usually the janitorial staff wasn't so distractingly…youthful-looking. _When the hell does a janitor ever look handsome?_ She wondered privately. Aloud, she said, "A word of warning, sir? I'll be glad to have you dismissed until you can learn to wait for someone to let you in when they knock."

"Sorry?" he looked at her and tugged at a thin, white cord, plucking an earbud from beneath the tuft of blond covering his ears. "I saw your lips move but couldn't hear you. By the way, I'm Sam Evans—one of the new janitors."

She nodded, "I figured. Look, Mr. Evans. I don't know if you missed the sign on my door, or the directory near the elevator but I'm Mercedes Jones-Tinsley and this is my c—"

"Oh _you're _Mercedes."

"Mrs. Jones-Tinsley," she curtly corrected.

"Wow…that's a mouthful." He chuckled but quickly quieted when she hadn't laughed with him. "Um…well it's nice to meet you. You've got a nice building here. I just came to empty your trash and vacuum."

"That's fine. I'll be leaving soon." She finally relaxed her gaze but her arms folded across her chest. "But in the future, you'll do well to _wait_ for me to answer you when you knock."

Sam nodded once, "I will but…in my defense, I really didn't think you were here."

Her eyes narrowed again, "Then why'd you knock?"

"Habit?" he answered with a casual shrug.

She opened her mouth to retort but her desk phone rang, and based on the caller ID, it was a call that would take greater priority over arguing with the janitor. She sat back down and picked up the phone, "This is Mercedes."

She ignored the look Sam Evans gave her upon introducing herself by her first name, but as he turned his back to her and tended to his cart, her gaze narrowed studiously again. She'd seen the back of that head before. Yesterday. Leaving work…

"Y-yes, I'm here, and I'd like to talk to Mr. Smythe. That's fine, I can hold. Thank you."

Her back settled into her desk chair and the second she was put on hold, she cupped her hand over the transmitter and said, "You almost hit me yesterday."

"What?" wondering Sam, turning around.

"You drive a busted up car, right?"

Her bluntness made Sam's face flatten. "Yeah? Oh…oh crap, you were in that Camaro weren't you?"

She affirmed his assumption, entirely with the look she was now casting him.

"Crap," he repeated. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't see you backing out. See I was on the phone with my—"

"Lemme guess. You were on the phone with your girlfriend?"

"No, m—"

"Your wife?"

Sam pursed his lips and returned her irritated expression. "My _nanny_."

Mercedes' face scrunched while she mouthed, "Nanny?" And then out loud she started to ask, "No offense, but…how old are you?" But before she could get an answer, her business attorney's voice came through the receiving end of the phone. It looked like his question thwarted him from carrying on a conversation with her any further since his earbud found its way back under the blond mane. She wasn't about to complain though—he had a job to do and she had an important conversation to get to.

"Hi Sebastian, how are you?...I'm fine…No, I was getting ready to leave but I'm glad you caught me before I did—thanks for calling back…Yeah, you can guess _exactly_ why I'm calling…mhm…no, I just want to set up a day where we can meet soon and try to get this squashed once and for all."

As she listened to Sebastian talk through his schedule her eyes followed Sam around her office. He was tall, broad-shouldered and even in the dumpy janitor uniform she could tell he was a healthy build, but there was a slight limp in his right step. If he had been one of the many sixty-something year-olds who were usually staffed for this job, she would have credited it to old age but he looked like he was right around her age, possibly a little younger or older.

"Oh, I'm here…tomorrow? I can't—Shane's got some benefit I have to go to, and I'm swamped through the weekend… Tuesday? I think that'd work, let me check my calendar." Pinching the phone between her ear and shoulder she grabbed her cell phone and began skimming through the calendar. "Happy day—I'm free for lunch…okay. Thanks, Sebastian…you too…alright…bye."

She sighed, hanging up the phone and briefly massaged her temples.

"You know," she heard Sam loudly say, causing her to jump.

When in the hell did he end up next to my desk? She wondered, pressing a hand to her chest.

He carried on, unfazed by her startled reaction, "technically, if our cars crashed, it would've been your fault."

"What are you talking about? No it wouldn't!" she quickly argued.

"Yes it would. I was driving in the parking lot. You were backing out of a stall. I have the right-of-way."

Her mouth gaped angrily while she thought this over in her head. "Well…" she started to say but he'd already cast her a triumphant smirk.

"Mhm so maybe I should've scraped your back end," he joked.

"Not so fast, Mr. Evans. You just told me you were talking on the phone and I'd bet anything you didn't have a hands-free device. That's illegal in California."

Her arms folded across her chest and her eyes never left his face. She smirked smugly with a look that said, "_Your move, Sherlock_."

Sam opened his mouth, "Well…" much like she had but when he spoke again he muttered in defeat, "Crap."

Mercedes chuckled and shook her head, "Look—no harm, no foul. Just be careful next time."

"Sorry. Really. My daughter caught a cold and I feel bad not being there for her but…yesterday was my first day and it would've looked pretty bad if I'd called out on my first day."

"Yeah, just a little bit," she sarcastically replied with a soft smile. "How old is your daughter?"

"Four," he replied, returning the smile. "Wanna see?"

"Sure. And then I really need to get going before I get another call."

"Oh. Why, what was that about?" he asked, moving one of his large hands into his lone back pocket.

Her brows cocked. "Not that it's your business, Mr. Evans, but some jackass has been trying to buy out some of the other shareholders in the company and I've been battling them for months."

"Why?"

"Because, my shareholders are the members of my board—a couple of whom work here in this office. My board has some say in what gets published for each issue and unlike some companies, I prefer my shareholders to reflect the diversity of this company—not for it to be monopolized by two or three people."

"But wouldn't only having two or three people make it easier to get things done? Fewer opinions to have to listen to?"

Mercedes shook her head, "I don't like 'easy'. I didn't start this business taking the easy way and I don't plan to run it the easy way. Plus, if the majority of my shareholders are bought out by one or two people, that puts me at risk of losing control over my company by some money hungry hippo, and when it comes to my business, I'm _not_ a figurehead."

He took in her words and then smirked, "You certainly aren't, Mrs. Tinsley."

She flinched internally when he called her 'Mrs. Tinsley'. Being a missus held no weight for her anymore. But she felt powerless to change it. Before her bother over her legal surname could appear on her face, she turned away from him and grabbed her purse and briefcase from beneath her desk. After standing and slipping on her bright red pea coat, she took her things and told Sam, "Goodnight, Mr. Evans. Please make sure my door is shut and locked when you finish up."

"Goodnight, ma'am."

There was a slight southern twang when he said 'ma'am' that made Mercedes smirk, amused, while she made her way to the door. When her hand touched the handle she heard from behind, "Wait, you didn't get to see Dani!"

Mercedes turned around, "Dani?"

"It's short for Danica, but I call her Dani." Sam crossed the room in a few long, uneven strides; despite the slight struggle that it appeared to be with his right leg, his face was absolutely radiant. In the short seconds he'd discussed her, she could tell his daughter meant the world to him.

Once he neared her again, he held his phone out to her. Mercedes switched her briefcase to her other hand and turned the phone screen to herself. Right away, Mercedes smiled; Danica had long, light brown hair; a slender frame with a heart-shaped face, chubby rosy cheeks, a wide smile that donned several tiny teeth, and her dad's bright eyes and plump lips.

"She's adorable," Mercedes softly giggled, handing the phone back to Sam.

"Thanks. I'm hoping she'll get over this cold soon. I promised I'd take her ice skating before the ice rink closed for winter."

"Does she have a sore throat?"

Sam grimaced, "Yeah she's got the works—runny nose, cough, all that."

Mercedes cast an empathetic smile and before heading to the elevator, she told him, "Try some vitamin C, OJ and a little ice cream."

"Ice cream?"

As her heels click-clacked away from her office, she replied, "It'll feel good on her throat."

* * *

Mercedes stepped out of her car. The glimmer of positivity usefulness Sam shed on her vanished before she stepped into the elevator. She pressed the "8" button and then gripped the white paper bag in her hand, causing it to crumple tightly.

She got over the embarrassment she felt from being recognized by the clerks at CVS; by now it was as alarming of an event as buying milk. What got to her now was how consistently the tests came back negative. For a while, Shane would insist she go back and take another which led to an argument between the two of them. It ended with Mercedes in tears but from then on, she was only pestered to buy one test a month.

Upon passing through the threshold, she slipped out of her black pumps and promptly picked them up to take them to the bedroom. When she reached it, Shane was waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand. "Took you long enough," he muttered and immediately stood.

Mercedes set her purse and briefcase on her side of the bed and abandoned the white bag long enough to take off her coat. "Hi Shane."

"Hi."

After smoothing out her black three quarter-length blouse, she picked up the bag and started towards the bathroom. Shane loped behind her until she turned around and faced him with a grimace.

"Can I please just have a moment?"

She was sure Shane would snap at her for asking but to her surprise he dismissed her with a, "Whatever."

Enjoying the permitted relief in private, Mercedes slipped into the bathroom, removed the purple box from the bag and took out the white pregnancy test. She relieved herself on the appropriate end and then set it on the counter, not wanting to stare at it and agonize over the possibility of being positive. She lowered her head in her hands, letting her hair spill over her hands while she silently prayed, "_Please God, let it be negative. Please God don't let me be pregnant by this man. Please, God_."

Years ago, she wanted a family, badly. She and Shane had talked about starting a family when they got serious in their relationship. But that was six years ago. Six very long years ago.

When it seemed like enough time had passed, she stopped dwelling on past desires and urgent prayers, lifted her head and finished up on the toilet. She purposely avoided looking at the test that was glaring up at her while she flushed and washed her hands. It was easy to ignore when she turned away to dry her hands but now came the moment of truth. She picked up the test, glanced at it for a long moment and then made to leave the bathroom.

"What's it say?" he grumbled, the moment she opened the bathroom door.

She stared down at the white stick which clearly read, "**Not Pregnant**," and held it up for him to see.

"_What does it say_?" he growled.

"It says 'not pregnant'."

She looked up at his glaring eyes and waited for his reaction. He looked like he was going to turn purple with how furious he obviously was. Before Mercedes could utter another word, Shane reached up and whipped his hand across her face with a loud 'smack'.

"What the hell is wrong with you! Huh?" roared Shane.

Mercedes nearly hit her knees when she stumbled to the carpet from the impact. Her left cheek stung and showed no signs of stopping. The pain was searing and pulsing, causing her chest to tighten and her eyes to fill with tears.

"How many times we gonna do this? Huh? This is what…the billionth negative? The fuck is wrong with you, Mercedes! When you gonna go see another doctor so he can tell you your ass is barren?"

There was no response from Mercedes. Had she not been literally smacked into a state of shock, she might have asked him, _Why do _I_ have to be the barren one?_ But that question didn't come to her mind, let alone leave her mouth. She was too focused on trying not to let him see her cry. Her head was bent low to the floor as she stood on her hands and knees with her fingers clutching the carpet. Shane stood over her and continued to berate her with blame for why they haven't been able to their family yet. She tried to block out his words and tried to stop feeding her own blame in her mind, and instead cling on to a moment—any moment that made her smile or make her feel a smidgen of joy. Her mind was grasping at straws, being overrun with replays of Shane's heavy hand coming down on her face again and again and again. Amongst the sobs and the mental replays, and the stinging and the thick, tense air she was able to find a tiny memory in a far corner of her mind.

A three-inch phone screen with a four year-old girl's smiling face glinted in that corner.

_**Please leave reviews! And can I just say…WOW! Thank you all so much who left reviews & are following this story! The notifications made me smile so much! I will be continuing this fic and I do have an idea in my head of where it's going to go. Bear with me on the updates though, as I currently have 4 other fanfics in-progress that I don't want to neglect. Thanks again for the love! More is coming soon! I'm sure many of you are wondering why Mercedes hasn't divorced Shane's ass yet. Well…you'll have to read on to find out. And keep in mind that Shane's a lawyer.**_


	3. Runaway Love

_**A/N: Thanks as always for all the reviews! And as for the chapter titles, all of them will have some song title or lyrical reference, fitting to the content of the chapter.  
Also, I know some of you are bothered/upset by the fact that I've used Shane to be Mercedes husband & abuser. To answer the question of 'why', in short? I really don't care much for or about Shane. Like several characters before & after him on Glee, RIB made Shane a tool of a character (also, see Sunshine Corazon, Harmony, Holly Holliday, Dr. Carl Howell, Coach Cooter, Sebastian Smythe, & co.). He wasn't developed enough for me to really care about him. That being said, I'm doing the same thing as RIB—using him as a tool to get what I want in the end, which is Samcedes. :)  
Finally, I'm enjoying all the speculation that many of you are voicing in your reviews and I encourage them in the future! Unfortunately, I must bite my tongue on most of them, seeing as I don't want to give anything away until the time is right. So without further ado, enjoy Chapter 3!**_

* * *

She knew exactly why she had never walked away before—because Shane made promises not to do this again and she had been foolish enough to believe it then. His temper was ugly but he had only hit her once before. Deep down she thought she was a smart woman, but being on the receiving end of this smack made her feel incredibly dumb. She thought back to her senior year in high school, when one of the school's staff members was going through an abusive relationship. Mercedes had been the first of her friends to say that their boyfriends would never do that to them; she agreed when her friends said that it was something they would never put up with. At the time, however, she was the only one of her friends that wasn't in a serious relationship. She went through most of high school and almost all of college without seriously dating anybody so by the time Shane came along, her emotions revolving around their relationship were fragile and she'd allowed herself to be vulnerable around him in a way that she hadn't been when with people who were only her friends.

But Shane had turned her own vulnerabilities into weapons that struck her core, and she had run out of excuses to the point where she didn't know when or how she got to where she currently was—her low. And after the painful tirade ended with him deciding to go for a walk and slamming the door, she mustered all the strength she had came to her feet again. Her hands clamped over her mouth and she drew in deep breaths while trying to listen for the elevator. The moment it dinged, she turned and made a quick run to the bedroom. She didn't know where she was going to go, but wherever it was had to be somewhere that wouldn't allow her to be alone with Shane. Her mind was racing with the fear of getting caught, and possibilities of what he might do to her, were that to happen. The images her mind conjured up made her fingers tremble as she pulled out her cell phone and quickly made a call, all the while moving sporadically about the bedroom toss as much of her things into her suitcases as she could.

"Don't tell me you're still at the off—"

"Puck I need your help," she whimpered, desperate to keep her tears under control.

Her best friend's voice turned deep and grave in an instant, "Where are you?"

"The penthouse. Please hurry. I need you to get here before he comes back."

"Who?"

"Shane! Please," she choked back a sob making her way to the bedroom window. Eight stories below, she saw Shane's burly form stalking up the sidewalk and away from the penthouse, "I don't have time to explain and I don't know when he'll be back. Just…just hurry, okay?"

"I'm on my way, 'Cedes."

The line went dead and she quickly shoved the phone deep in her pocket to free both hands for packing. Underwear, toiletries, make-up, jewelry, pajamas, blouses, skirts, slacks, dresses, jackets—more than half of her closet and dresser content was stuffed into her humungous purple suitcase sets. She pulled the matching duffle from her closet to throw her shoes and hair accessories inside, but quickly darted to the window out of sheer paranoia. Her heart beat erratically inside her chest knowing that if she didn't get away this time, she probably wouldn't try to do it again—given the chance.

Her relationship with Shane seemed so healthy at first, but the moment her parents practically cut off communicating with her because of him should have been her first indication that she was building a relationship on sand, rather than a rock. And surely enough, the grains of sand were slipping through her fingers with ease. The image of the life she once thought she would have with Shane had gone up in smoke long ago. Years of breaking down and faking that things were okay had become so second nature to her, that she didn't think it possible to get out of this diluted "loving" relationship—not without heavy costs on her end. She knew of Shane's leverage over her with his co-signing of the loan, but was the status of her company worth her being reduced to insignificance every night by her husband? The redundant answer to this question was something she ignored for the past four years; she worked hard for her success and feared having it robbed of her by the man she _used_ to believe cared for and about her, but today…something about today made her not only _want_ to leave but take the actual steps to the door.

_Knock, knock, knock_

Mercedes jumped and rushed to the door. She peeked through the peephole before letting out a sigh of relief and wrenching the door open. Her body half-flew into Puck's arms but she immediately pulled away, "Please—help me bring these bags to my car."

"Mercedes what's going on?" he asked, following her rapid strides down the hallway.

"Puck I really can't explain right now!"

"I mean I know he's kind of a dick sometimes…" said Puck, ignoring her shrill response.

She tugged her larger suitcases off the bed, "Can you take these?"

"Did he hit you, Mercedes?"

His query brought her up short for a second. She turned her face from him and grabbed the duffle, along with her purse and briefcase.

"Why are you leaving him?"

"Yes! Okay? He hit me! And he left for a walk but he'll be back any second and I don't want you two fighting, now please! Let's go, _now_!"

She was just short of dropping to her knees with how badly her pleas were. She could see how quickly Puck's concern for her turned to white hot fury to deck Shane for what she'd just confessed to him, and the last thing she wanted was for him to possibly get hurt, just because she called him over to help her.

They made haste with Mercedes' things out of the penthouse, but as Mercedes turned to lock the door, she heard the elevator ding. Her heart stopped, plummeting to the deepest pit of her stomach. The confrontation she didn't want to have happen between her, Puck and Shane was about to happen anyway.

That is, until a slender red-headed woman stepped off the elevator and regarded her with a peculiar gaze. Puck rushed ahead to stop the elevator doors from closing while Mercedes realized what made her neighbor stare at her oddly. She, Mercedes was locking up and leaving with bags and a man that wasn't her husband. This realization hadn't made her heart climb out of her stomach yet but she forced her feet onward as Puck held his hand across of the door panels.

As soon as the doors closed, she swiped the "G" button, closed her eyes and let out a sigh but couldn't allow herself to feel completely safe just yet. Her eyes opened up again when Puck whispered to her.

"Take what you have to your car and follow me to my place. Quinn won't mind. And if Shane shows up downstairs while we're leaving, just get yourself outta here and check into the Four Seasons or something."

"No," she answered, shaking her head immediately. "If I go to a hotel, I can't go to some high profile one. That's the first place he'd look for me."

Puck stared into her fearful eyes and with some split second thinking, nodded, "Alright just get yourself somewhere safe and _call me_ as soon as you can."

She nodded back, simultaneous to the elevator opening up to let them out. She could feel that Puck was on high alert as both their eyes swept back and forth through the parking garage. Puck escorted her hurriedly to her Camaro and helped her stuff her things into her trunk. The moment she slammed the trunk, she hugged him tightly and whispered, "Thank you, Puck."

He gave her a quick squeeze around her middle and then promptly pried her away with an urgent, "Go, 'Cedes!"

With just her purse in hand, she hurried to the driver's side, digging frantically inside for her keys. She had a split moment of fear, thinking she had left them upstairs but to her fortune, her fingertips brushed the familiar cold metal she desperately needed and let herself in. Once the engine growled to life, she threw it in reverse and backed out of her spot, eyeing Puck a few stalls away, shoving her larger suitcases into the back of his silver Cadillac XTS. She took a long time blinking and drew in a deep breath before switching her car to "Drive" and coasting out of the garage. She paused near the mouth of the garage, waiting for Puck to come around and lead the way, but the blood rapidly drained from her face when she turned her head to her left and saw Shane lumbering up the sidewalk.

There was nothing discreet about her car; all he had to do was look up and he'd see the front end of her purple Camaro. Somewhere in the buzz of her panic, she heard Puck's car start but Shane saw her first. With one more hasty check for clearance, Mercedes kicked her foot down on the gas pedal, made a tire-screeching exit to the right and sped away.

She could have sworn she heard her name being shouted in the distance. The distinct call haunted her as she drove, weaving fearfully between other cars. Los Angeles was littered with hotels of varying types, but she knew she already had to eliminate any four or five-star selections. And since Puck had recently moved in with his longtime girlfriend, Quinn, she didn't have the address to meet up with him. A Motel 6 was out of the question, but as she tried to sort out her options, her mind blocked out other possibilities while letting fear and paranoia drain her of her strength like a parasite. She jumped on the freeway and just drove with no set destination. She rolled down the windows, hoping that the cool evening air would help her get her thoughts together. The adrenaline that fueled her veins had died away and in its place, she began to feel hollow and in need not only of figuring out a sleeping arrangement but to also find somewhere to grab a bite to eat. As she thought this over, the dark blue moniker of a Best Western came into view, made accessible by the next exit.

Mercedes sped up, changed lanes and exited with frequent glances in her rear view mirror for Shane's black BMW.

* * *

She parked beneath the overhang out front long enough to go inside, check into a room with her personal credit card—given the condition of the highest anonymity being kept amongst the hotel staff—and then she returned outside to find somewhere inconspicuous to park her car for the night. When she received her room key and found the right one, she let herself in, flipped on the nearest light switch and set her things down. It was in that moment that she remembered she only had her shoes and accessories with her. Sagging onto the bed with a sigh, she dug around her purse for her phone and re-dialed Puck's cell number. He answered after the first ring.

"Shane didn't follow you."

Her brows twitched together. "How do you know?"

He saw my car and shouted at me. I stopped long enough for us to have some words, and then I left. He didn't even have his keys on him if you can believe that."

"What did you say to him?" Mercedes fearfully asked.

"You want the play-by or the Spark Notes story?"

"Just tell me what you said," she strained.

Puck sighed, "In lamest terms, I told him to stay the fuck away from you. Good enough?"

Her lips pursed together and she swallowed back her desire to say 'no' and ask for a play-by, and instead settled to say, "Thanks Puck," again.

"Anytime, Mercedes. Really. Now…where am I bringing you your stuff at?"

"Best Western, off of Sunset."

"Alright I'm on my way. Do you need anything else, 'Cedes?"

She tried to think about this question but at the moment her mind was only focused on staying safe.

"I'm fine," she said with resign. "Just...when you get here, I'm in room 203."

"Okay. I'll be there soon. If he calls, don't answer, don't listen to any messages, just _ignore_ him."

Their call ended and right away Mercedes felt the need to constantly keep moving—to keep busying herself. She unpacked what of her belongings she _did_ have, organizing and re-organizing her shoes in the small closet, and then spreading out her hair accessories in the bathroom in an obsessive compulsive manner. She set up the room's desk as a small work space and stuffed her empty bags beneath the table. When she finally decided it might be okay for her to relax, she sat down on the bed again, pulled off her shoes and curled up on one side of the queen-sized bed. The moment her cheek touched the pillow, however, she gasped and sat up slightly, touching her fingertips to the area on her face. She closed her eyes and went to the bathroom to have a look at the damage done.

After flipping on the light, she cringed at what she saw. Already, the area on her face where Shane hit her hardest was turning into a dark, tender blotch. She grabbed one of the white face towels, ran some cold water over it and carried it back to the bed while trying to sooth her cheek.

She only sat for a few minutes before hearing three solid knocks on her room door. Unable to help the gasp that squeaked out of her, she got up, checked the peephole and then opened the door for Puck. He bustled in with her things and freed his hands to hug her.

"I'm glad you're safe here."

"Me too," she answered with less confidence in her voice than him. "I can't hide from him forever, though Puck. I know Shane…"

"You_ know_ Shane?" he mocked humorlessly, pulling her back so he could glare at her. "So you knew he was going to hit you?"

She didn't have to look up to know that Puck was balking angrily at her. "Mercedes I've known you since high school. We came out to LA to pursue our dreams together. We were roommates while you went to UCLA and I did pool cleaning. I gave you away to him when your parents refused to come, and you didn't bother telling me any of this? How long has this been going on?"

Large fresh tears began to form in her eyes from the guilt and shame, "Four years. But he's only hit me twice."

When she looked up at Puck he look like he was trying to avoid looking at a car wreck, rather than his best friend. "Don't…" he started. "Don't say 'he's only hit me twice' like there's some cap on how many times it's okay for a guy to lay a hand on you before. You need to go to the police, Mercedes."

"No!" she quickly replied. When she realized how loudly she'd answered, she quieted and said, "I can't right now. If I go to the police, or file for a divorce right now, two things are going to happen that I know I can't handle right now. One is he'll go after the company and try to walk away with half. I've talked to Sebastian about this before and until the fifth year is up on the loan we co-signed, he's fully entitled to do that and there's a good chance that he'd get it too. And the other is…I just can't deal with the media field day that'd come from this."

"…You're kidding?"

"No, I'm not and I know that sounds like a stupid excuse but I have a lot on my plate right now with trying to prevent my shareholders from being bought out. I can't handle that, and a divorce, and protecting my assets and fighting off the media! I can't, Puck!"

"Alright then let me help you!"

"You _are_ helping. You're helping more than you know. Getting me and my things out of the penthouse was helpful. Everything you've been doing at _REAL_ is helpful and will continue to be helpful if you keep on doing it."

He looked ready to implode but what Mercedes got was a sigh and several shakes of his head. "Look…you know I'm not gonna leave you hanging at _REAL_. I've been there with you from the beginning and I'll be there with you 'til the end. But I'm telling you right now—media circus or not—if he shows up at the office and I'm around? All bets are off. I'm re-arranging his face for what he's done to you."

Mercedes swallowed back her desire to argue, but she knew it'd be in vain. There wasn't much she could do and there wasn't' anything she would be able to say to get Puck to avoid grappling with Shane. Puck was the over-protective brother she never had. She and her actual brother were never close growing up, and after his car accident during her sophomore year in college, she was robbed of the chance to change their closeness.

"Get some sleep, 'Cedes. Don't come into the office this weekend and if you need anything, Quinn and I are a phone call away, okay?"

She nodded and stepped close to give him a hug—a hug that wasn't abruptly ended by the dire need to escape her aggressive husband. She kept her arms tight around Puck and cried a bit more, letting the relief, fear, sadness, and uncertainty trickle down her face. She didn't realize how truly exhausted she was—of the fighting and the abuse and the belittling and blame before today. All the things that were most precious to her were currently in this hotel room, save her parents whom she hoped might one day forgive her for how blind she had been six years ago.

She drew in a ragged breath and after sighing it out, pulled away from Puck and wiped her eyes on her blouse sleeve.

"One more thing before I go…just to help you cover your bases…do you and Shane share all your finances and stuff?"

She shook her head and gave one quick, humorless laugh, "I made most of the money. He's just getting started as a lawyer, but we had one joint account set up for bills and things. That's it. Everything else was separate. He's got limited access to some of the funds in the business, because of the consignment on the five-year contract, but…" she shook her head and sighed, "As long as I don't use my card for our joint account, or charge anything suspicious from my business account, he won't be able to trace my purchases."

"Good." He gave Mercedes one more hug and pressed a kiss on the top of her head before letting go and scooping up his keys off her bed. "Get some sleep now, seriously. I'll come by tomorrow and you, me and Quinn can go get breakfast or lunch or something."

She nodded, pushing away the creeping reminder that she was supposed to go to a benefit tomorrow. A twinge of terror prickled her as she wondered what was going to happen now that she was partially in hiding, but she did her best not to care at the moment.

"Night, Puck."

* * *

She couldn't sleep.

Every time she started to slip into unconsciousness, a honking horn from outside or a fearful thought would jerk her awake again. On top of the day's events, her stomach was gurgling reminders to her that she hadn't eaten anything since the non-satiating salad she ate noon. She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand beside her which only read 11:45, meaning she'd been at the hotel for less than four hours.

She sat up letting the groggy haze pass and then stood up to get a bra and something quick to throw on. The only places she could think of that might be open at this hour were fast food places—Taco Bell, Jack-in-the-Box, In-n-Out…

_In-n-Out_, she echoed in her mind. She couldn't remember the last time she had a burger from the well-known west coast food chain but her mind became fixed on it now, craving it to satisfy her hunger.

After slipping a bra on under her silk pajamas, she threaded her arms through the sleeves of her red pea coat, tousled her hair slipped her feet into a pair of black ballet slippers. The importance of keeping up a good appearance at this hour felt unimportant and unnecessary, especially when she knew she wouldn't be gone long.

Mercedes grabbed her keys and purse and quietly left her room. Out of sheer paranoia, she glanced in both directions down the hall, before continuing on. Her eyes were on the floor as her mind forced her to wonder how long she was going to stay at Best Western, and where she was going to go next. It was a question that came up when Puck arrived with her things, and she still had no answer.

She tried to let herself relax—to have one Shane-free thought for one night—but brain wouldn't allow it. Images kept flashing in her mind of him striking her across the face again, while various harsh words cracked like a whip inside her mind.

"_What the hell's wrong with you, huh?"_

"_The hell were you thinking?"_

"_Dumb bitch!"_

"_Don't you fucking sigh at me!"_

"_Be quiet!"_

"_The fuck is wrong with you, Mercedes?"_

"Mrs. Jones-Tinsley?"

Mercedes head whipped to the side and stopped mid-stride. Her eyes froze on the blond-headed figure that stepped out of the elevator, wearing jeans and a white wife beater, but carried the familiar grey jumpsuit at his side with a plastic bag. He regarded her with deep confusion, which only made her feel more like a deer caught in headlights.

"Wow, yeah that's still a mouthful to say," chuckled Sam. When she didn't chuckle back or roll her eyes or promptly fuss at him, he quieted. "Sorry."

Once Mercedes unthawed, she muttered, "It's fine. Mercedes is fine," averted her gaze and ignored the burning beneath her cheeks. Immediately she deflected going down _that_ road while absent-mindedly rubbing her thumb over her ring finger. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. And I work here—part time to have my fee reduced. What about you? What brings you here? Don't tell me you're here on business," he teased. "Your office is 15 minutes away."

Mercedes tucked her lips in, trying to come up with a quick convincing lie. Not once did she think she'd run into any of her employees here because as he pointed out, the office was close and most of her staff lived locally. Of course it hadn't crossed her mind that that might include residing in a hotel.

"Uh…"

She watched him squint at her, "Are you okay?"

_No_, she immediately thought. "I'm fine."

He started to limp towards her while pointing at her, "Then what happened to your face?"

Her heart stopped while her hand immediately flew up to cover her cheek. In her eagerness to get food, she forgot to dab on some concealer before leaving her room. "I—…I tripped."

He stopped a few feet in front of her and raised his brows. "You tripped?"

"Yes. I missed my step, tripped and hit my cheek."

"On what?"

Her brows furrowed, chagrined, "Why are you so concerned with my business?"

He pursed his lips, making her wonder for a moment if he was going to keep pressing her or let it go. To her private gratitude he dismissed the discussion, flickered away from her face and then back to it again. "Well…what's bringing you around the halls this late, if that's okay for me to ask?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheekiness, "I'm hungry so I'm going to get some food. Is that okay with you or we gonna play 20 questions as to why I'm hungry too?"

He folded his arms across his chest and her eyes immediately went to his pretzeled limbs. Despite the jumpsuit draped over his forearms, the muscles exposed at his biceps made her think, _Holy damn I bet those feel nice._

"Sure, we can play 20 questions but I really only have two."

Mercedes stopped admiring his strong-looking arms and snapped her gaze to his face again, "What?"

"Where were you going to get food at?"

Now she folded her arms, "It's not like I have a lot of options at midnight. It's mostly fast food places that are open this late and I saw an In-n-Out up the street."

"There's a Safeway that's open 24 hours," he replied.

Her brows rose, "Really?" Maybe this conversation with him wouldn't end up being all bad.

He nodded, "I can't tell you how many late night trips I've made over the years for formula, pull-ups, rash cream—you name it."

His light chuckle made her smile. "How's your daughter doing?"

"I think she's okay. I just got in from the office so I haven't seen her yet but I called on my break, and my buddy Finn's with her."

"Oh, is he your manny?"

"Huh?" She watched the confusion come and leave his face, "Oh! No, he's not a manny. He's an old friend of mine. His wife manages this hotel so he just comes by around 10 when my nanny has to go home. He offered to start watching Dani for me while he waits for his wife to get off at midnight."

She nodded and mused, "Does your wife work late too?"

"Ah," he chuckled once, "No, she…she died after Dani was born."

Mercedes lowered her eyes regretfully, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't know."

A growing silence started between them. She let her eyes make a full circuit from the ceiling to the walls to the floor before looking back to him, "So um…what was your other question?"

"Oh…well you said you were hungry, and…" he gestured to the plastic grocery bag in his hand, "I went by the store already—got some of the stuff you suggested for Dani, and I happen to have food if you wants to join me."

She regarded him warily, "I…I don't know—I don't wanna impose and I know you weren't planning to make anything for me."

"Of course not," he chuckled, "but that doesn't mean I can't share. Besides there's crazies out there,"

_No kidding_, she thought.

"And I'd bet my dinner that you don't make late night trips for food on a regular."

That was true. The only time she went out late was to a club or a party with friends; she never wandered the streets of LA this late by herself.

"Come on," said Sam. "My room's down the hall, and it has a stoooove."

Her lips quirked into a smile and she couldn't help rolling her eyes at his attempt to make a stove sound enticing.

"Alright, just this once." She was tired of arguing anyway, and her stomach felt like it might attack if she didn't accept.

Sam cast a crooked smile at her and waited for her to walk up to his side before he carried on down the hall. "Hope you're up for breakfast. It's the anytime meal."

She returned his friendly smile with a sleepy yet genuine one of her own. Suddenly, In-n-Out didn't seem like such a necessity anymore.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! What did you think of this chapter? Apologies if I screwed up big time in any areas and let a sentence or paragraph drop off into incompletion. I have a habit of beginning a scene and then skipping around in the chapter to work on another part, while relying on my memory to bring me back and finish up various scenes. Hope that made sense. Anyway, more is coming !**_


	4. Butterflyz

Mercedes followed Sam to his hotel room, buttoning his lips when he whispered, "Dani's probably sleep—just a heads up."

She nodded and when he pulled the card key out and let them in, she and Sam were greeted to a dimly lit room, occupied by a gangly brunette male who looked like he was about to take a seat but righted himself to his feet at the sight of Mercedes and Sam.

"I thought you were working tonight, bro? Could've told me you were back in the dating game," teased his friend.

Sam chuckled once and rubbed the back of his neck, "Um, no she's not a date. She's kind of my boss—we ran into each other in the hall. Finn, this is Mrs. J—I mean, Mercedes. Mercedes, this is my buddy, Finn Hudson."

Finn smiled at her and nodded once while stepping up to shake her hand, "Nice to meet you."

Even in the dim light, Mercedes could see that he was looking at her face, but not her eyes. Self-consciousness constricted her frame but she did her best not to show it. "Likewise."

"How's Dani?" asked Sam.

"She's okay. Her chest was bothering her when I left. Your sitter said she'd been coughing a lot."

"A sitter?" wondered Mercedes, causing Sam to turn and look at her.

"Yeah? I told you before that she comes and watches Dani—"

Mercedes smirked and shook her head, "No you said you had a nanny. There's a difference. Nannies usually live here."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Not always. Anyway, sitter, nanny—you get the idea."

"Yes I do. I was just giving you a hard time. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It's fine," and then turned his attention back to Finn. "Thanks for doing this man. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Dani's a good kid. Anyway, I should go see if Rachel's ready to go."

Finn made his way to the door and left, whispering, "Night, guys."

"Night," Mercedes and Sam whispered back in near unison. As soon as the lock gave a faint click, Sam gestured to the round table nearby, "Have a seat—please. I just wanna go check on Dani really quick."

She nodded and graciously sat down, though still feeling self-conscious about her cheek. In the midst of thinking on something else, her eye caught Sam limping again while he returned from checking on Dani. In general he didn't have a dramatic hobble to his steps, but it was enough to make Mercedes curious. "So…what happened to your leg? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh..um.." as he explained, he came around the table and started putting the groceries away. "I used to play ball—minor league for the 66ers. The night I was hoping to impress a recruiter for the Dodgers, I was up to bat and their pitcher threw the ball too low at 92 miles an hour. Shattered my kneecap."

Mercedes' hands flew over her mouth like she was witnessing it happen. Not only could she hear the disappointment and bitterness in him, but she could see it. He had finished putting away his bag of groceries and was now staring at no place in particular with stern, dark eyes until he finally pulled himself out of whatever thought he'd privately had.

"Anyway…that was a wrap for my baseball career. I had surgery on my knee and for the most part it's fine now but a little stiff…now I walk like Dr. House only without the cane."

She smiled weakly when he chuckled at his own comparison, though in secret she didn't really know who Dr. House was. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine. Qué sera, sera right?"

Something told her he didn't really believe that. That it was just what he needed to tell himself from letting the bitterness consume him. Then again, in the short encounters she'd now had with him, he did present himself to be more of a happy-go-lucky guy than a cynic.

"You know…" spoke Sam as Mercedes watched him pull out a bowl and crack a few eggs against its rim, "You still haven't told me why you're here."

Taken aback, she foolishly answered, "You invited me."

Sam shook his head, "No I mean at the hotel. Don't you have a mansion in Beverly Hills or a penthouse up the road you could be at?"

The buoyant feeling she didn't realize she was feeling before suddenly became uncomfortably dense and forced her gaze to the floor. "No," she answered, just above a whisper. "No I don't."

"Oh…" it was obvious Sam picked up on the draw back in her mood because he'd momentarily stopped whisking the eggs he'd cracked, but quickly started up again.

"I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. But if you do, I'll listen."

She pursed her lips and nodded once, "Thanks." The chances of her telling him any more than what she'd already revealed were slim-to-none. He was a janitor at her company—one whom she didn't know if she could trust with something so deeply personal. On top of that, Puck was already upset with her for not saying anything about the abuse before now; it felt like a betrayal to him and their friendship if she were to open up to this guy she barely knew when she hadn't disclosed all the details with Puck yet.

At the same time Sam poured his egg mixture into the pan he'd been heating, Mercedes heard a soft, innocent voice say, "Daddy?" from behind.

Mercedes turned in her seat and saw tiny Danica Evans standing in front of an open door—she assumed was her bedroom—and rubbing her throat. Mercedes recognized her in an instant from the photo Sam showed her earlier that day; same light hair, large eyes, heart-shaped face and plump lips like her father.

"Hey, Princess," spoke Sam, walking away from the kitchenette to tend to his daughter. Mercedes watched him scoop her up in his strong arms with ease and kiss her cheek, then promptly raise the back of his hand to her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," Danica croaked.

Mercedes sympathetically frowned; Danica was even more precious than the photo Sam had shown her. She hugged her slender arms around her daddy's neck and clamped her legs around his torso while he held onto her and rubbed her back.

"Who's that?" she asked, gazing her green eyes upon Mercedes.

Mercedes smiled and raised a hand to wave at the little girl, "Hi I'm Mercedes."

"What are you doing here?" Her childlike curiosity kept the smile on Mercedes' face.

"I came to have something to eat with your daddy. Is that okay?"

Danica nodded, "Mhm Daddy makes good food."

Mercedes giggled softly, "I'm sure he does."

She watched Sam kiss her cheek once more and then ask her, "Want me to come tuck you in?"

Danica nodded but gazed sleepily at Mercedes. "You're like Tiana."

"She's like who?" wondered Sam.

Danica sat up slightly in his arms and pointed to her pajama shirt. "Tiana, Daddy! Look! Missedes is like Tiana!"

Sure enough, on the chest of her pink pajamas stood five of the Disney princesses—Rapunzel, Ariel, Belle, Cinderella and Tiana.

Mercedes' smile grew into a soft grin at Danica's words. Sam chuckled at her and began slowly walking her into her room. "Yes, she's very pretty like Tiana, isn't she?"

"Mhm," Danica nodded against his shoulder.

Ignoring the warmth beneath her cheeks, Mercedes waved her fingers, "Goodnight, Danica."

"Goodnight, Tiana!" she replied as she vanished from Mercedes' sight.

Mercedes clamped her lips together to keep from giggling aloud and giving Danica the wrong impression. Her eyes went to the stove again as she saw slow wafts of steam rise from the pan. Right away, she stood and strode over, noticing that the eggs were growing thick, so she pulled open a few drawers until she located a spatula and thrust it beneath the already cooked side. When she folded it over, the bottom was a nice solid yellow color with golden brown mixed in. She stood at the stove, watching over the fluffy egg fold until she heard Sam return with his slow, rhythmic steps.

"Sorry about that," he whispered. "She went back to sleep pretty fast." When he approached her he asked, "They didn't burn, did they?"

Mercedes shook her head, "Nope. They look just fine to me."

"Good," he replied, smiling and reaching around her from behind, "I thought they were gonna burn but thankfully you were on it."

His arm brushed across her back as he went for the cheese sitting on the other side of the stove, buy she tried to think nothing of it. "Well I wasn't just gonna sit there and watch them burn while you were to tuck in your daughter. Those moments and all…I can appreciate that you make that kind of time for her."

Her heart was thumping hard inside her chest from how close he was to her and when she looked up into his face he was smiling at her. "May I?"

He had a hand out for the spatula and she quickly relinquished it, stepping back towards the table. Though his back was to her now, she kept seeing his smile in her mind; it made her bite her lip and feel like a school girl again but she shook her head and sat down at the table again.

"Here you go," Sam softly spoke, sliding a little more than half the omlette in front of her. He set his own plate across from hers, and then turned back to the mini fridge, "Do you want some orange juice?"

She picked up her fork, "Sure I'll have a little."

The moment the fluffy bite of the cheesy egg entered her mouth, Mercedes closed her eyes, relishing the taste and warmth. Whether she was just really hungry or if Danica's words were true, one thing was for sure—the omlette was divine. She immediately went for another bite and another as Sam returned to the table with their juice.

"I can make more if you want."

The fork prongs were momentarily clamped between her lips when she realized she had already eaten half of wha was on her plate. She pulled the fork out of her mouth and lowered it and her eyes to the plate. "Sorry."

Sam chuckled softly, making her look up at him again.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm actually flattered—I don't get to cook for many people over the age of four so it's nice to know my cooking really is pretty good."

She smiled, happy to let him make the wrong assumption for her rapid eating pace. And picked up her fork to eat some more, slowly this time.

"Do you have any kids?" he asked suddenly.

Her chewing slowed again, and once more she was reminded of the events earlier that evening—the negative pregnancy test flashing in her mind. "No…I don't."

"Oh…"

His tone sounded apologetic but Mercedes forced a smile, raised her orange juice glass and echoed his earlier sentiments, "It's fine. Qué sera, sera, right?"

Her poorly-made joke brought an air of discomfort between them so they continued eating in silence. But as she finished up her part of the omlette, she caught Sam staring at her. At first she pretended not to notice but when she looked at him again and saw him still staring at her, she felt a twinge of irritation.

"What?"

He shook his head, "Nothing. You're just an interesting person, Miss Cedes."

She smiled at the pronunciation his daughter had spoken, but the moment she looked back into his warm eyes, she felt a strange flutter in her chest—something she hadn't felt in ages. Something that made her want to do things she knew she shouldn't. Something that excited and frightened her when it occurred. She lowered her fork to the plate and stood, suddenly, trying to ignore the guilt that tugged at her from Sam's confused face.

"I'm sorry," she uttered again. "I…I think I should go."

"Uh…okay?" Sam stood as well, "Well I'll walk you out—"

"No!" she spoke too loudly, squeezing her eyes shut to back track in a lower, calmer tone. "No, it's okay. I…I'm not leaving the hotel tonight so I can manage. But I really think I should go."

Sam looked like he wanted to say more to her but he closed his mouth, smiled vaguely at the floor and yielded to her insistence. "Alright. Well I hope you at least got enough to eat."

"Yes," she lied. "Thank you for inviting me over."

Once the door closed behind her, Mercedes strode quickly down the hall, waiting until she felt a safe distance away before the flood of emotions smacked her in the chest. She felt little loyalty was owed to Shane, yet the fact that they were still technically bound to one another brought a wave of guilt over her. She barely knew Sam, yet she felt surreally relaxed around him; like he was someone she had known for years rather than hours. His alluring physique was a frustrating distraction, and there weren't enough words to describe how adorable his daughter was.

* * *

_**A brief moment of following Sam instead of Mercedes. Enjoy!**_

Interesting wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use to describe he—not to her face at least, but it was the one he felt was most appropriate. He had to keep reminding himself that she was a married woman, but he knew there was something…off about her relationship with her husband. Her cryptic answer about not living in a grandiose place, and her skirting around her reason for being at the hotel were all odd to him, but what raised the greatest concern for him was the bruise along her cheek. As much as he tried to—and he did—he couldn't imagine anyone tripping, falling and getting a bruise like that. At the same time, he wasn't an expert on falls or bruises but it still seemed unlikely. Even before officially working at her company, he'd been told she was a tough woman. Was she lying to protect herself? Or someone else perhaps? He didn't know, but he _did_ know that there was much more to Mercedes Jones-Tinsley than her stern CEO exterior.

Yes, Sam Evans was a _very_ observant person. He credited his detective-like skills to his love of Batman comics and the many Sherlock Holmes books he read as a kid. Their incessant vigilance was a trait he tried to adopt and at times in his life it served him well, but when it came to Mercedes, it raised some red flags. But beyond the things that didn't add up with her, he also found himself admiring plenty about her. For one, she had a smile that could light up LA; at least when she was genuine about it. Two, he liked that she had no qualms potentially being seen out to get a burger in her pajamas at midnight. It would have made him laugh had it not also been dangerous for her to do. Also, her sweetness towards his daughter was something he would always appreciate.

Being a single dad hadn't ever crossed his mind, but it was what it was and with his parents gone and his two siblings living halfway across the country, he didn't have many people in his life to rely on in helping look out for Danica. Whether it was something as small as suggesting Vitamin C and ice cream, or something as hugely important as watching her while he worked, he was grateful.

Sam went to his bed—a short distance from the kitchenette/dining area, rid himself of his jeans and sat down, letting out a retired sigh. His large hands rubbed at his right thigh and knee for a brief massage, and then he laid back on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling in more thought. His hunches about Mercedes wouldn't rest in his mind; he didn't want to think that someone had hit her, but every time he tried to latch on to an alternative, his mind would draw back to abuse like opposite ends of a magnet. Of course he didn't want to assume without knowing but regardless of what had happened to her, _something_ made her leave abruptly.

Maybe the day she'd had was too much. After all, she did mention something about someone coming after her shareholders, and that had been clearly upsetting to her. Then there was her reluctance to talk about herself with him while they ate. He wondered if he had perhaps overstepped a work-related boundary by inquiring about her personal life, and soon felt guilty. He wanted to make it up to her in a small way.

The moment a light bulb went off in his mind, he smiled and did his best to hold on to the idea until morning. For now, he needed to rest his body. Sam closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, said a few silent prayers and willed himself to go to sleep.

* * *

Mercedes awoke to dim luminance, unaware of the time and for a split second she'd forgotten where she was. But the distinct, fresh hotel smell reminded her almost instantly. She rolled over to check the time and saw that it was 10 am. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept that late and wondered why her phone hadn't buzzed or rang to wake her with calls like it usually did on the weekend. Sifting through the haze of a long, much-needed sleep, she remembered that she'd turned her phone off before going out last night. With a sigh, she sat up spotted her purse and went to it to retrieve her phone. After turning it on and starting at the screen, she watched as 1, 2, 5, 15 missed calls appeared, along with 14 voicemail messages and 30 text messages.

Her eyes closed for a long blink and as much as she didn't want to, she looked through the ID of the missed calls first; 12 of them were from Shane, 1 was from her personal assistant, Tina Chang, and the most recent was from Puck. She then debated over listening to the 14 voicemail messages but Puck's warning for her not to echoed in her mind, so she evaded them and skimmed throught he text messages instead. Most were from Shane again, and whether she was a glutton for insults or not, she found herself reading through them anyway. Whatever he left in her voicemail box was undoubtedly worse than what she was reading now. However, she came across a couple texts from Puck:

_**7:30AM:**__ Still on for breakfast this morning?_

_**9:30AM:**__ I'm coming by at 11 w/ Quinn. Hope you're ready._

An hour to get herself ready was barely enough time; she put her phone on the charger and rose from the bed to start getting ready when several raps on her hotel door derailed her.

"Dammit," she spat under her breath. She forgot to check the peephole and half assumed it to be Puck, arriving early.

Upon opening the door, a short, elder woman dressed in common housekeeper garb held out a small brown teddy bear with a red bow around its neck and a small white envelope.

"For you, miss," said the woman.

Mercedes' brows furrowed. She held her fingers around the bear's soft exterior, studying it for a second. "Um…thank you. Who's it from?"

"There's a note," the woman smartly stated before walking away.

Confused, Mercedes went back inside her room, letting the door close behind her, and plucked the note from under the bear's arm. Her initial thought was Puck until she saw how her name was addressed on the front of the envelope: _Miss Cedes_

Right away, a small flutter drummed in her chest again and she angrily told herself to stop that, but her body didn't listen. After one loud deep breath, she tore open the envelope and read Sam's messy handwriting:

_Don't get mad but I asked Rachel about your room number this morning. More like I bugged her for it but I promise, I won't tell anyone you're here. Hope I hadn't done something last night to scare you off. Yesterday looked like a bad day for you so here's to hoping for a better one today. –Sam_

She let herself smile at the gift and note, while simultaneously making a mental note to have a chat with the hotel's manager about the privacy she adamantly requested upon checking in. Something told her she could trust Sam not to tell anyone where she was, but her fear of how easily she was willing to trust him allowed her to properly be upset too.

Before she could let herself stand there and dwell, her eyes caught the desk clock again and she hastily set the bear on her bed, then scurried to the bathroom for a shower. Sam and Rachel were going to have to wait; for now, she needed to make amends with her best friend.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! You know I love 'em! I'm amused that a few of you have your doubts about Sam being a janitor, but I certainly won't discourage your skepticism. ;) Anyway, I hope you got some more insight on Sam in this chapter. Of course more is coming soon!**_

_**Chapter title from "Butterflyz" by Alicia Keys**_

_***Chapter 2 title from "I Say A Little Prayer" by Aretha Franklin/Dionne Warwick**_


	5. Help!

**-January-**

_**A/N: Sorry this took me so long. I was out at the State Fair/hanging with my friend a lot later than I'd anticipated. Anyways, enjoy chapter 5! Sorry for any errors!**_

Mercedes sat down with Puck and Quinn in the back corner of a small, sparsely populated café—each with a steaming mug of coffee in front of them. She pulled her large sunglasses off and stared at her hands cupped around her mug. The car ride over had been five long minutes of awkward silence, and it followed them into the café, save them placing their orders with the clerk. However, once they were all seated with their coffee, muffins, fruit and pancakes their wordlessness ebbed on the side of ridiculousness.

"Puck, are y—"

"Why didn't you tell me about what was happening?" asked Puck, speaking over her to break the silence.

Her eyes looked up to Puck but she immediately wished she hadn't. Beneath his stern exterior she saw that her secrecy had truly hurt him. She pinched her lips together, "I…I don't know."

"Yes you do. Four years, you said—_four years _this has been going on and you didn't say anything to me."

Quinn's hand came over Puck's wrist, "Noah…"

"No!" he hissed back, pulling his wrist from beneath her hand and struggled to keep his voice low. "She needs to hear this." Puck's eyes bore into her forcing her to hold her gaze to him, "When I asked you about this yesterday, you told me this was the second time he's hit you but he's obviously done more than that. You looked scared shitless and I've never seen _any_thing or any_one_ scare you, Mercedes. Do you understand that you could've ended up dead because of him?"

She flinched at the weight of his question. His words were like a smack in the chest and though she didn't admit it aloud, Puck was always good at being straightforward with her. This time ended up being the hardest to hear, however.

"I'm sorry, Puck," Mercedes whispered.

"What happened, Mercedes?"

She knew what he was referring to. It wasn't 'what happened to make him want to hit you?' but 'what happened to make you put up with him hitting you?'

Her head slowly shook a few times and her eyes were fixed on nowhere in particular. "I thought he loved me…I used to think he loved me and that he wanted us to be in this together but…I don't know—something in him changed…he changed and I thought maybe it was just a phase and that it'd go away on its own…and then it didn't…and I just accepted it…and then it got worse and I couldn't talk to him about it because he didn't wanna hear it…but it just got worse, and worse, until I couldn't do anything about it. It just became this…snowflake and it turned into a snowball….and it just kept going and building more and more and I let that happen. I let it get out of control…I let _him_ get out of control…"

She realized she was talking in circles and talking herself into tears as her vision abruptly blurred. Before any trails could streak the concealer on her cheeks, she snatched a napkin and quickly dabbed at her eyes, but her body still shook with silent sobs.

"And then he hit you," guessed Puck.

Mercedes nodded and lowered her head in her hands. "I tried to leave…I-I…I really did…but I…when I tried t-talking to him, he….he snapped." The word was barely breathed. "Then I got scared…I was scared to try and leave again, and…sometimes he seemed like h-he cared, so…I stayed. I put up with it…but…"

To her surprise, Quinn's hands took hers to pry them gently from her face. When she finally looked up again, Quinn looked slightly teary-eyed but somewhat stern.

"You know sometimes…it takes some women 10…15…20 years to get out of a relationship like yours…and some don't get out at all." Quinn's voice dropped even lower, "But you did. Give yourself some credit for that, Mercedes. _You _got yourself out."

She nodded but honestly struggled to find a praiseworthy bone in her body. He'd worn her down so much that she hardly knew what it felt like to handle a genuine compliment that didn't relate to the company.

Keeping her eyes low, she whispered, "Thank you, Quinn." After drying her eyes again, Mercedes brought her gaze back to Puck. "Puck I'm sorry…I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"I know. And I know you feel like you have to be all 'Independent Woman' all the time but you really don't. Not all the time. We're your friends, and Tina cares too."

Mercedes nodded, picking at her muffin to give her hands something to do.

"Mercedes, I know I'm just a paralegal," started Quinn, "but I do a lot of work for different kinds of lawyers at Sebastian's firm. If you want…I could refer you to some of his divorce attorneys."

A tight, nervous feeling began to prick at her chest; she rubbed her hand across her collar to try and sooth it, while quietly telling Quinn, "Thanks." Attempting to get a divorce was what led Shane to hitting her the first time, and what had served as a reminder of what she wouldn't do in order to keep his murderous gaze out of his eyes from then on. But that lost its truth yesterday; she hadn't attempted to divorce him yesterday, but her 'inability' to conceive a child with him brought out the same rage in him. Again, she found herself troubled over what he might do if she were to actually file this time.

"I…if I go through and file, please just—don't let this get around you guys. I need to find some things out before I try this again."

Puck scooted his chair over so that he was close enough to rest a hand on her shoulder, "You can trust us. We're not gonna go blabbing to the media and Sebastian's known you long enough to relay discretion to whatever attorney you end up working with to get you through the divorce."

Again, Mercedes nodded; a few seconds of silence followed, but Puck soon gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze for her attention.

"There's something else you might want to think about doing," said Puck. "Two things, actually."

"What is it?"

"Counseling," said Quinn, triggering a briefly stunned gaze from Mercedes.

Puck spoke again, "If you're not comfortable telling me about the shit you've been going through with that asshole, at least talk to someone who can help."

She opened her mouth to protest but Puck put his hand up to stop her.

"The other thing is your parents. I know you haven't talked to them since you got hitched with Bubba, but with things being the way they are, it wouldn't hurt for you to pick up the phone and make things right between them."

The nervous feeling that merely pricked at her before, expanded to her throat, making the air she breathed hold abrupt thickness. Talking to her parents and trying to forge some sort of reconciliation seemed vastly more terrifying now that she would also be letting them know that she's been abused by the man they hadn't approved of her marrying. Somehow it seemed like her parents always did get more 'I told you so' opportunities than anyone else in her life.

Sudden phone buzzing started on the table and all three adults looked down at their own phones.

"Excuse me," muttered Quinn, raising her Blackberry to her cheek, "Hello?...Yes, but I…on a Saturday?...No…no that's fine…okay….bye."

Puck and Mercedes gave her a curious look and were met with her apologetic gaze, "I'm sorry. I have to go into the office for a while."

"Oh," spoke Mercedes.

Quinn picked up on her deflated tone and said, "Don't worry—you guys stay. I can catch a cab." She looked to Puck, leaned in and pecked his lips. "I'll see you back at the house. And Mercedes? I promise I'll email you all the info about the divorce attorneys at the firm and you can choose one to contact."

Mercedes nodded, "Thank you Quinn."

Quinn said her farewells and once she was out the door, Mercedes looked at her half-eaten muffin and said, "We probably should just go. I could use a little more sleep…"

Her sentence trailed off and Puck nodded, "Sure, 'Cedes. Just…take what's left of this weekend to give time to yourself. Avoid any partners or anyone from the office until Monday."

She chuckled dryly and knowingly, "That's gonna be a little difficult."

"Why?"

"Because, one of the janitors lives at the hotel."

Puck's brows rose, "Seriously?"

She nodded. "I saw him last night. He lives there with his daughter."

"Last night?"

"Yeah, I um…had dinner with him."

Adding to his raised brows, Puck smirked, "Dinner, huh?"

Mercedes reached out and swatted his arm, "It wasn't like that. We ran into each other when I was going to get food and he offered to make me something instead. Besides, I'm m—"

"Married?" finished Puck—his voice dripping with incredulity. When Mercedes looked in his eyes, he was staring slightly downward; she followed his gaze to her diamond ring and awkwardly slipped her right hand over. Puck rolled his eyes and scoffed, "'Cedes you need to pawn that shit."

"I'm not gonna pawn my ring."

"Well at least ditch it. You don't owe anymore loyalties to that dick."

Mercedes lowered her gaze to the floor; her voice was just above a whisper when she told him, "I wish I really felt that way. Right now it just sounds like the right thing to say but that's it."

Puck placed a couple fingers beneath her chin to raise her gaze again. "Give it time. Eventually you will."

She faintly smiled, "Thanks Puck," and moved close to hug him.

After he returned the hug, he mumbled, "Love you 'Cedes. Take care of yourself and if you need anything, call me or Quinn. And…consider giving your parents a call. I know you haven't talked to them in forever but you're their kid. They'll wanna hear from you—and not just from the magazine."

She grimaced at him and pinched his cheeks, "When did you get to be so wise and caring?"

He looked away from her, squinting, "I don't know…" he then looked back to her, feigning seriousness, "You think Quinn's turning me soft?"

She chuckled and pushed on his chest, "Come on."

"Or maybe it's the company that's making me soft with all those advice columns from Brittany."

"You're crazy."

Puck smirked, "And you're friends with me." He looped an arm around her shoulder, "Love it or leave it, 'Cede Baby."

* * *

For the remainder of the day, Mercedes did her best to take her best friend's advice. When Puck dropped her back off at the hotel, she had a brief word with Rachel, the manager, asking her again not to blab her location to anyone else. After her firm talking to, she went straight to her room, hoping not to encounter Sam on the way. She truly needed the time alone, but she didn't realize how badly she needed it until she was lying back in bed later that afternoon, crying into her pillow.

Her marriage had been over for years, but letting all the problems settle like dirt at the bottom of a swimming pool was something she'd grown accustomed to. Sure, she was weary of the verbal beatings and never in a million years did she think she would tolerate a man hitting her. Yet she made Shane an exception for far too long and was hating herself for it now.

And as she lay in bed lamenting on the decadence of her marriage, she reached out to hug her new bear to her chest but snagged her wedding ring on a loose thread. In between a sob, she clicked her tongue in frustration and tugged her ring off, remorseless in her silent vow to keep it off.

When it seemed she had no more tears left to cry, Mercedes snatched a tissue off the nightstand and wiped her face and carefully dab her bruised cheek, then she turned back on her side to sleep what was left of the day away. She was teetering on the fence between wakeful dreariness and much-needed slumber when a few knocks on her door tipped her on the side of wakeful dreariness.

She checked the peephole this time and let out a sigh at the sight of Sam. For a second, she hesitated opening the door, knowing how much of a mess she looked but she hoped that if he saw that, he might go away and let her be.

"Sorry to bother y—" His words cut off as he winced slightly from her red, puffy eyes and deep grimace. "What…what happened?"

"Not now, Sam," she mumbled hoarsely.

She started to close the door but his hand flung out to stop it, "Wait hold on! Seriously Mercedes, what happened?"

"It's none of your business, Sam!"

"You keep telling me that but every time I see you you're unhappy. Will you _please_ just tell me!"

"I'm having a bad weekend, alright? Just please go away."

She went to close the door again but this time when Sam stopped her, his hand came over the fingers she had on the door.

"It's your husband, isn't it?" he quietly and seriously asked.

Her mouth fell open but she quickly recovered, "How did you…?"

"Your ring's gone."

For the second time that day, she hid her left hand from view. Her wits abandoned her and instead, she was accompanied by the annoying nervous prickle she felt at the café.

"Look I just came by to make sure you got the bear."

"I did. Thank you."

"And," spoke Sam, "I wanted to know if your day was better."

At that she knew the true answer was 'yes' but it also wasn't a perfect walk on the clouds either, so she opted for shrugging a response.

Sam gave a comprehensive nod, "Next weekend, why don't you come hang out with me? We can go get some drinks or something."

Her jaw slackened. "Are you asking me out?"

She'd thrown her stunned feeling back at Sam, "What?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"Well, no—I mean if you're trying to look at that way then I guess it could be but—"

"Sam," she cut across giving him her professional, authoritative tone. "Once again I don't know why I'm sharing my business with you but…my husband and I are separated. There. You wanted to know why I'm at this hotel and now you do."

Sam tucked his lips in and swallowed thickly. "Mercedes, I—"

"It's been a day. One day. Not even that!" When she realized her voice was rising she paused for a deep breath and then brought her corporeal tone back. "I'm not going on a date with you, Sam."

"Listen, I was j—"

"Goodbye, Sam."

This time when she went to close the door, he hadn't stopped her and she was grateful. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to fight back the oncoming tears. Sam was a nice guy and too good-looking for a janitor, but Mercedes had the sense to know that it was much too soon to be jumping in the dating game. Puck might have been right about her not owing Shane any loyalties, and that has probably been true for years, but committing to dates or anything along those lines after having less than a day to process everything.

* * *

Sundays normally felt like one of the slowest days in Mercedes' week but an exception was made when she continued to heed Puck's advice through the weekend. The day came and went in the blink of an eye; she squeezed in a little bit of work, despite herself, and while she had little contact with the outside world, it proved to be something she needed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a quiet day to herself, but when Monday arrived that tranquil bubble popped the moment she stepped into her office.

Her agenda and a series of reminders were sitting on her desk, along with her favorite breakfast treat—a Starbucks piece of coffee cake—and a sticky note in Puck's handwriting, telling her to "Keep your head up today, boss." She smiled softly and picked at the coffee cake while diving right into work mode. While seated behind her desk she kept having flashes of memories from Friday that kept making her reach up to touch her concealed bruise, but she made a mental not to stop and avoid making a habit of it.

Throughout the day she was in and out of meetings with her staff and potential endorsers for _REAL_. Towards the end of the day, she held a small meeting between her, Santana, Sugar, and Puck to finalize the layout for the newest issue, and followed up on an earlier meeting where they and others on staff discussed plans for upcoming issues.

"Thank you guys for coming," she said to wrap up the meeting. "I think the February issue is going to be a good one and I doubt any of you have forgotten but it hits the stands this weekend. Based off the drafts I looked at over the weekend, March looks promising too but I don't want us to slip into a typical series of fashion and home re-decorating trend for Spring. We do that every year and it's going to become a boring cliché. By the end of the week I want us to all to come up with something or someone captivating to feature for the April issue."

When she received resounding nods about the room, she gathered up her papers and dismissed everyone. As they left, she loudly said, "Don't forget our 5-year anniversary's coming up that month too!"

After she spoke it though, it hit her that it was almost February. She couldn't believe that in two months she would be looking at a milestone in her company. Prior to going on maternity leave, Tina, Puck and her had been discussing plans for a company party, away from the office to celebrate. Thankfully Tina was returning next week so that they could finalize and carry on with those plans.

As she walked back to her office she was tailed by Puck who summed up the things accomplished on her agenda from the morning, and ran a few things by her for what was to come for tomorrow. She tidied up her desk and tended to a few things on her computer while he finished up by saying, "Also…I spoke to head of security when I got here this morning."

Her typing slowed, "And?"

"Shane's not to step in this building. If he does they're required to escort him away or call the police immediately."

Though she felt a bit of relief try to come over her, she also felt a twinge of apprehension. Still, it didn't keep her from thanking Puck.

"It's fine. And necessary. After all I know I can't always be here to protect you, but I meant what I said the other night about him showing up when I'm around."

To her dismay she replied, "I know you did."

"I'm getting ready to call it a night and you should do the same. Quinn and I have plans tonight but I can walk you down to your car."

She shook her head, "You don't have to. I'm just going to finish typing this email and then call it a night myself." She saw the wary look in his eyes; he knew her well enough to know that typing up one email could turn into a laundry list of things that she suddenly remembered she'd need to do. "I promise, I'm just doing the email. Go ahead, Puck—I'll be fine."

He looked uncertain but nodded, "Okay. But if anything happens, 'Cedes…"

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm just sending one email. I'll be right behind you—in fact I'll probably end up racing you down the elevators."

Puck faintly smirked, "Have a good night and call me if you need anything."

"I will. You and Quinn have a good night too."

"Oh we will."

She looked up at the seductive tone his voice had taken and when he winked at her she scrunched up her face, "Ewww get outta here with that!"

Puck grinned and she giggled, "Bye, dork."

"Later, 'Cede Baby."

Her head shook a couple of times and once her office door closed again, she put her attention back on the email. She'd only had a couple of sentences typed up, but the rest of what she was going to say was taking its time to form in her mind. She drummed her fingers along the desk, staring with fierce concentration at the screen as though it might will the appropriate words into her mind.

The faint click at the door was something she was only vaguely attentive to, as she assumed it to be Sam or one of the other janitorial staff members.

"What? No bodyguards?"

Her heart stopped, only to take off, galloping in her chest like a wild horse. Mercedes' eyes snapped up, wide and alert. "You…you shouldn't be here…"

"Shouldn't be here? Like hell I shouldn't—I help you get this shit started," Shane replied, lumbering across the tile gap between the door and her desk.

As irritating as it was for him to constantly remind her of the lease he co-signed, too much of her was frightened to snap at him for it. Instead, she pressed her back into her chair and whispered, "Security's supposed to know who's allowed in here."

"Yeah well you might wanna tighten up on security if you're trying to keep _me_ out."

At that, Mercedes said nothing. Her heart was hammering hard and felt like it leaped up and lodged itself in her throat. A thought blinded her for a moment—what had he done to her security on staff? Did he injure an of them? Did he bribe them into letting him up to her office? Or were they all really just as incompetent as he implied. She didn't have the answer, nor was she about to call to find out. Her eyes were too sharply focused on watching Shane circuit a slow pace along the side of the desk, glaring at her like a vulture circling its prey.

"I know you ain't livin' on the streets, Mercedes. Your ass is too boogee for that. So where are you staying at? Huh? I haven't seen money disappearing from our account so unless you got another one on the si—"

Shane paused, his eyes growing impossibly darker with rage. "How much?"

"What?"

His face twisted up with his fury. "How much money you got stashed away, Mercedes?"

She didn't answer and in response to her silence, Shane stepped to her, looming dangerously close.

"So what…you're already planning to divorce me and walk away with everything? You know that's not gonna happen, Mercedes. You can divorce me but you're not gonna clean me out of what's mine!"

Mercedes did her best to hide her fear as she told quietly him, mustering all her strength to mask her terror, "I haven't filed for a divorce, Shane."

"Good," replied Shane through gritted teeth. "You better keep it that way…because the moment I find out you filed, I'm gonna make you sorry you ever even _talked_ to an attorney. I'll clean you out and bring this company to its knees—yeah I know you'd do anything to keep this piece of shit business alive."

She blanched and her eyes watered. "You wouldn't…"

"You fucking know I would. And I could. My name's still attached to this company."

"For two more months," she whispered, daring to be strong. "And it's just your name that's on the loan contract…that doesn't entitle you to everything I've worked for."

He puffed his chest vehemently several times and finally clutched his huge hand on her shoulder. His other hand raised in a fist to strike at her causing Mercedes to shrink deeper in her seat, but they both froze when the lock on her door gave a faint click.

Shane straightened up and stepped back, and Mercedes sat up lowering her gaze to try and recover from what almost happened.

Before Sam came fully into the room wheeling his cart along, Shane harshly muttered to Mercedes, "We'll see about that, bitch," and broke into a quick stride for the door. He ignored the shove he gave to Sam while lumbering out of the office.

"Hey!" Sam glared at Shane's retreating back and then shook his head muttering, "Bastard," under his breath. He looked up and turned a quick smile on Mercedes. "Hi, uh…what was that about? One of the shareholders you mentioned or something?"

Mercedes shook her head, "Nothing, just…it's nothing. I'll be out of your way soon."

As she started to log off her laptop she heard Sam say, "Oh you're not in my way. And besides, I wanted to ask you if you'd like to—"

"Sam—"

He quickly and nervously cut across waving both his hands, "I don't mean…not like that, I mean I know you're married…"

Mercedes held up her hand to show him her bare left ring finger as a reminder. "Separated."

Sam halted on his slow strides towards her desk. "Right. I'm sorry."

"Don't be..." She stared off at nothing in particular and then shook her head. "No, it's fine. It's…it's better this way, so…there's nothing to be sorry about."

He lowered his gaze for a few seconds, then limped a few more steps closer and said, "I wanted to invite you—it's not a date!" he hurriedly added in response to the warning glance she gave him. "…Dani has a dance recital on Saturday. Finn and Rachel are coming and then we were gonna get pizza after, and I thought I'd ask you if you wanted to come too. I understand if you wouldn't, but Dani seemed to really like you when she met you. She asked where you went when she got up the next morning, and when I saw you last…well, you seemed like you could use a night out watching four and five year-olds shuffle their feet in tutus."

Mercedes giggled softly at the image he painted in her mind. She tucked her lips in her mouth to think it over and then decided, "Okay."

Sam's brows rose, coupled with a hopeful smile, "Okay?"

"I'll come," she explained with a nod. After gathering up her things and stepping away from her desk, she looked up into Sam's green eyes again and softly spoke, "Thank you for thinking of me, Sam."

He nodded back, holding a smile on his lips, "You're welcome."

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! More is coming of course, seeing as I've already got the next 5/6 chapters mapped out & started on.**_

_**Chapter title: "Help!" by The Beatles**_


	6. Better In Time

**-February-**

After a lengthy chat with Puck and an even lengthier chat with the head of security, Tuesday morning, Mercedes decided to add a few more officers to the payroll, order a panic button be installed beneath her desk, and then phone Sebastian to confirm their lunch meeting. She spent the majority of the morning in her office, working from her desk.

When it was time for her to meet with her business attorney, she straightened up the mess of papers on her desk and took the elevator down to her car. They met up at The Cheesecake Factory and opted to sit out on the patio for some quiet. Sebastian pulled her seat out for her and then sat down across from her, adjusting the buttons on his three-piece suit. As always, his auburn hair was slicked back and his face donned a sense of sharp but charming professionalism.

They ordered their food right away, allowing for them to get right to their conversation without being incessantly interrupted by needless inquiries from the wait staff.

"How are you?" he asked, bringing his water glass to his lips.

Mercedes swallowed. She didn't know how to answer that question, given everything that unfurled over the past few days. To avoid an awkward gaze as a result of her silence, she opted on saying, "I've been better. There's actually something else I'd like to go over with you, in addition to this problem I'm having with this anonymous weasel who's trying to buy out my shareholders."

Sebastian's brow perked, "Oh?"

She nodded and pursed her lipstick-adorned lips. "Quinn told me you had a few divorce attorneys at your firm…"

Both Sebastian's brows twitched up, "That's true."

"She emailed me contact information for both and I was wondering what your thoughts were on the two."

"Is it safe for me to assume that you're inquiring for yourself?"

Hesitation only pressed on her for a second; Sebastian was her attorney for _REAL_ magazine—her greatest accomplishment. They had known each other for years now, and she knew that he was going to find out eventually; sooner, over later was best in Mercedes' eyes, especially if Shane really was going to come after her company for this. She nodded, "Shane and I…what we had is over. I moved out of our penthouse and although some of my stuff's still there, I can't go back."

"What happened, if I may asked?"

His point-blank inquiries weren't something new to Mercedes but she wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal just yet. "What's the term most people cite for getting a divorce?"

"Irreconcilable differences."

She nodded, "That's what's happened. Also, he's threatened to bring _REAL_ to its knees if I file before the contract on the loan is up."

Sebastian let out a low whistle, "So are you going to wait?"

"I…I don't know. That's something I wanted your advice on before I go seeking an attorney to help me file. But as of right now, he's no longer welcome on the premises, and I'm laying low until I can find somewhere else to live."

"I see," he answered with a slow nod. "Well…naturally I don't want to see you lose _REAL_. Putting aside your account and our professional relationship, I respect and care about you as a friend. And not that he cares, but I'm not a fan of the way your husband operates as a lawyer. People consider me ruthless and I don't argue it, but he takes it to a different level, so it would bring me the greatest pleasure to see him not get what he wants. However, he _would _have a chance of walking away with a hefty check, were you to end your marriage with him with the loan's contract still intact. And since you hadn't protected your assets with a pre-nup, he could potentially manipulate the situation in front of a judge, just so that a ruling works in his favor."

Mercedes felt a wave of gratitude for Sebastian's words, up until he started with 'however'. It wasn't what she wanted to hear; it made her stomach lurch, but she knew she needed the information to help her make a decision.

"Here's my advice, Mercedes." He took another sip of water and then folded his hands on the table. "Use Lauren Zizes from my firm to help you with the divorce. Between the two divorce attorneys I have, she has more experience handling white collar cases and if she and I end up partnering to get you through your divorce and this threat to your company, I know I can rely on her background to help give you the best outcome."

She nodded and he went on.

"Talk things over with her—be as honest as you can about everything. You might not want to tell me everything that's happened between you and Shane but she's bound to attorney-client confidentiality, and if you want her to help you through this transition, you're going to have to trust her. From there, she can draft the notion for your divorce, but it won't be legitimate until you sign the papers. Now…if you decide to sign those next week or in two months, that's up to you, but at least she'll have them ready when you are."

"Thanks Sebastian."

He parted a hand from his woven fingers and raised it just slightly above the table, "Not a problem. And as for this anonymous shark, I'm pulling as many resources as I can to try and figure out who it is and why they're so interested in buying out the majority of your shares. Whoever it is, they're living under a grain of sand on a beach, but I'm determined to figure it out."

Mercedes nodded but let out a sigh, "How is it that no one knows who they are?"

"Well all we do know is that they're operating through a third party, and this go-between guy isn't loosening his lips on who his puppet master is."

Mercedes caught sight of his fingers clenching into fists. The sharpness of his clenched jaw line made Mercedes reach across the table and gently pat his fist, "It's okay, Sebastian. I know you're gonna figure it out. You always do."

At that, he relaxed and allowed himself to smile at her. "Thanks. Your confidence in me is…refreshing."

She raised a brow, "You mean all your clients don't think you can pull a rabbit out of your hat?"

He smirked humorlessly, "No. Definitely not."

She shook her head, "Well then they lack a serious amount of faith, don't they?"

"Probably," he shrugged with a quick heavenward gaze. As his charming smile and marginally narrowed eyes landed on her again he said, "You're a great woman, Mercedes."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Psh, please."

"You are," he insisted. "You run a tight ship with your company—and rightfully so—but you're also kind and brilliant in everything you do."

She pursed her lips together, feeling unsure of what to say; his flattery was sweet but she hadn't been feeling so brilliant lately.

"What's that look for?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied with a couple shakes of her head and a lowered gaze. "I just don't feel so brilliant is all."

Sebastian gave her a long, hard stare and then calmly asked, "This is about your husband, isn't it? And the divorce?"

Their waiter arrived with their food, set their plates down in front of them and then headed off just as Mercedes picked up her fork and sarcastically asked, "What am I—a damn open book or something?"

"Pardon?"

"You, Puck, Sam…"

"Sam?"

She quickly shut her lips as if it was going to trap Sam's already spoken name in her mouth. She looked down at her burrito and shrugged, "He's one of the janitors at REAL."

"Oh, is he a friend?"

"No," she answered too quickly. "I mean…I don't know. What I _do_ know is he's nosey as hell, but he's also nice and has an adorable daughter."

Sebastian chuckled once, stacking up a bite of salad on his fork, "How is he 'nosey at hell'?"

"He's just always asking stuff about me."

"Liiike about work? Personal life? Where you buy your outfits?"

Mercedes dipped her chin, giving Sebastian a serious look, "He's not gay, Sebastian. Sorry."

"How do you know?"

"I…" she closed her mouth again, and then shrugged, "I just know. Anyway, I'm not about to play matchmaker for you with a guy who keeps wanting to know about _me_."

He chuckled once, "Fair enough. So does he seem really interested in _REAL_, or…?"

"Not really. Most of his questions have been about me—not necessarily the company. Why?"

"I just wanted to see if he might have anything to do with this shareholder battle."

Mercedes' brows shot up in incredulity, "Are you kidding me?"

"Hey," Sebastian raised hand as if he were being sworn in, "People have done things like that and it's usually that person you least expect who's the one to turn around and hurt you most."

As she lowered her eyes to her burrito, Mercedes thought to herself, "_You don't know how true those words are_."

* * *

The lunch meeting with Sebastian gave Mercedes more than enough to think about over the next few days. In addition to zipping around the building like a mad woman, she was also trying to make time to contact her recommended divorce attorney. She found some time and called Lauren Zizes on Thursday to set up a meeting to go over the steps for filing for a divorce.

When in her hotel room during the evenings, she performed little off-the-clock tasks from her laptop, except for on Friday. Mercedes had never been to a dance recital before, so she wasn't sure what the protocol was in terms of wardrobe. After wearing several outfits in front of the mirror, she finally went with a short-sleeved magenta cotton blouse with a black and beige scarf and one of her favorite pair of designer skinny jeans. As per her and Sam's conversation the day prior, they were going to ride together to Danica's recital.

"I'm driving," Mercedes said when Sam opened his hotel room door. She smirked at him but it vanished in the blink of an eye. She'd been so accustomed to seeing Sam in his grayish blue jumpsuit every day that he'd momentarily caught her off guard when she saw him standing in blue jeans and a grey fitted Henley. The slight tightness that formed in the sleeve of his janitor's uniform was put to shame by his shirt. Not only did it hug his deliciously fit biceps but Mercedes could also make out the shapes of his firm pecks, just above his flat abs. His hair—which was usually a crop of side-swept bangs—was now flipped back with groups of dark blond hair spiked towards the back of his head.

"Mercedes?"

She blinked rapidly, "What?"

Sam chuckled while giving her a peculiar gaze, "I asked if you don't trust my car to get us there."

She tucked her lip inside her mouth and shook her head, trying to regain composure. "Um…no, I don't," she blurted out.

He chuckled, "It's not gonna fall apart on the highway. It gets me to and from work, and it got Dani to her recital early so her teacher could get her ready."

"Well you can tell me how to get there on the way. I'm driving," she repeated.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam said, "Alright, hold on. Let me get my jacket."

Mercedes nodded and waited outside the door for him to return. When he did, his eyes were on his cell phone screen, looking stern.

"Everything okay?" she asked as he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

"What?" Sam looked up at her face and then smiled, "Oh, yeah, sorry. Dani's teacher's keeping me updated. I'm um…not exactly an expert on tutus and leotards so she offered to help me out there."

The smile that appeared on Mercedes' face was one of sadness and admiration for Sam. She couldn't imagine him being an expert on all things dance for his four year-old daughter, but she also admired that he seemed to be doing what he could to keep her happy and provide for her.

On the way to the recital, Sam told her, "Oh, Finn and Rachel won't be there tonight."

Mercedes cast a suspicious glance out of the corner of her eye.

"No, I swear—I didn't set this up." His hands went up in surrender. "Finn must've caught Dani's cold while he'd been watching her this past week, and Rachel's taking care of him."

Right away, Mercedes abandoned her suspicion and nodded, "I hope Finn feels better soon, but I'm glad you told me the other day that Dani's bounced back from her cold."

Sam chuckled once, "Yeah so is she. She was so glad to be able to go back to school."

"School? At 4?"

"Pre-school," he corrected. "She loves it."

A smile returned to Mercedes' face, "Wow. Preschool, dance, two jobs—when do you sleep?"

"I don't," he answered with hesitation, earning a confused look from Mercedes until he added, "I'm a vampire."

She laughed, "is that so?"

"It is."

"So do you sparkle during the day or…?"

Sam snorted and blunted said, "Uh, no. I'm not that kinda vampire." He then shook his head and muttered, "That's the dumbest thing ever done to vampires."

Mercedes' brows raised but she was still smiling, "You're touchy about your vampires aren't you?"

"No…well, I mean come on—a sparkly vampire? Who's threatened by a vampire that looks like they rolled around in the glitter bin at Michaels?"

She laughed even harder, "Oh my God, okay you just made me picture Robert Pattinson doing that."

Sam unapologetically shrugged, "All I'm saying is…it's a stupid quality to give a vampire."

"I don't think I could argue after your glitter bin comparison."

He smiled at her and then continued on with giving directions until they arrived at the high school where the dance company was performing at. After being handed a program, they both found a pair of seats close to the front of the stage and sat down, minutes before the recital began.

Danica was performing 3 different dance numbers in the hour-long recital. She and a handful of 3, 4 and 5 year-olds came on stage as the second group of performers, dancing a jazz routine. Mercedes smiled when she saw Danica in a lavender leotard; out of her peripheral vision she saw Sam raise his phone-wielding hand to snag a few photos of her tumbling and dancing. The second time she appeared on stage, she was dressed in a colorful Latin-flared costume for a tap number. A couple of times, she glanced at the girls beside her during the routine but for the most part she danced her number well. For the last of Dani's three performances, she was back in her lavender leotard, but a dark purple tutu was added, along with pale pink ballet slippers.

A sense of pride came over Mercedes. She didn't know Danica well but she felt so happy to see her on the stage, radiating pure happiness for what she was doing. When the performance ended, She, Sam and others in the crowd stood up and clapped for the young group, as well as the other dancers that performed that evening. As the stage cleared, Sam tapped Mercedes on the shoulder and told her, "She'll meet us in the lobby. That's where all the dancers go when the recitals end."

Mercedes nodded and followed him out of the row and up the aisle to the back, telling Sam how adorable and talented his daughter was tonight. Under the glow of the auditorium lights, she saw him blush while accepting the compliments, but when he spotted Dani, his entire face lit up.

"You were so good, Dani!" cheered Sam as he scooped her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

"Did you see me plié, Daddy? I pliéd!"

Mercedes clamped her smiling lips together. Danica's innocence was too lovable for words. She could tell Sam didn't know what she was talking about but he hid it well from Dani when he matched her enthusiasm for his answer.

"I sure did! I think you were the best one up there, Danimal!"

He attacked Dani's face with kisses, causing Dani to giggle and squeal for him to stop. Mercedes giggled as well and when Sam finally did stop, Mercedes told his daughter, "You looks so great up there, Danica!"

"Thanks Miss Cedes!" beamed the little girl.

"Who's ready for some pizza?" asked Sam, looking from Dani to Mercedes, and then back to Dani.

"Me! Me! Me!" Dani eagerly chanted. "I want pizza!"

Sam and Mercedes both chuckled and then Sam said, "Well then let's go find a Domino's, huh?"

Mercedes' lips quirked up into a thoughtful smile, "Hey would you two wanna try this other pizza place I know of? I swear they have the best pizza in LA."

Sam smiled back at her and shrugged, "Sure! You up for that, Dani?"

"Okie!"

After kissing Dani's cheek, Sam looked to Mercedes and said, "I gotta go get Dani's costumes and stuff from her teacher. We'll meet you at your car?"

Mercedes nodded, "Sounds good."

Sam turned and as Mercedes watched him limp away with Dani, she heard him telling her about 'Miss Cedes' fast purple car'. Mercedes grinned bashfully and shook her head, and then walked on to leave the auditorium.

* * *

Danica _did_ like Mercedes' purple Camaro—mostly for the color, unlike Sam who loved it for the model. He told her that she should buy an autobots emblem to stick on the steering wheel and she told him that if one showed up on her horn, she'd know exactly who the culprit was. Eventually though, they arrived at Casa Bianca Pizza Pie. They ordered a large pepperoni pizza to go and together the three headed back to the hotel for pizza and cocoa, chatting about Danica's performance the entire way.

Eventually, Danica was yawning more than she was eating and Sam told her it was time for bed. He excused himself and Dani from the table with absolutely no qualms from Mercedes, and carried the little girl off to her room. Some ten minutes later, he returned and sat down, apologizing for his long absence.

"I always read to her after I tuck her in," he explained, pulling a slice of pepperoni out of the box.

Mercedes shook her head, "It's okay—really. You don't have to apologize to me for taking care of your daughter, Sam."

He smiled, "That's a relief. Thanks."

Her brows furrowed, "Why's it a relief?"

Sam gave her a slight deer-in-headlights gaze and then looked down like he was getting ready to confess to a crime. "Well…I know this wasn't a date—we talked about that and I completely respect where you're at in your life right now. But it's just that I _have_ dated girls in the past who've…I don't know…they'd swear up and down that things were fine but I could tell they were just saying it because it was the right thing to say and not because they really meant it. Does that make sense?"

Mercedes plucked a pepperoni off her own slice, "Yeah. Like…they were making you feel guilty for having a daughter?"

"Yes!" he said a little too loudly and then quieted. "Yes, just like that. But..you didn't make me feel that way when I apologized. It's…refreshing."

Mercedes wanted to remind him again that it was probably due to the fact that they weren't on a date so those sorts of pressuring feelings didn't apply to them. But she held back from pointing that out. If anything, it seemed to her that saying that would make it sound like she might_ not_ think it was okay for him to tend to his daughter, were they actually on a date. She wasn't that kind of a girl and more than anything, she respected Sam's love and attention to Danica.

"Can I ask you something personal?" she wondered, looking right in Sam's eyes.

He was chewing on some pizza when he shrugged and nodded, "Sure."

"How old was Dani when her mom passed away?" Mercedes quietly asked after a light sip of cocoa.

Sam let the air out of his lungs, fiddling with a pizza crust, "Not even a day."

Mercedes froze, casting wide eyes at him. Sam just nodded at her reaction.

"Yeah, she um…she had a brain aneurysm…right after the birth. There was nothing they could do."

A hand cupped over Mercedes mouth, and then she brought to her throat. "I'm so sorry, Sam."

"Thanks. I'm okay…it's been four years and, I won't lie—I was pretty messed up for a while. I mean first I lost my chances at the major league because of my knee, and then I lost my wife and became a single dad in one day. It was just…a lot at once, y'know?...And even though I still miss her from time to time, I've been able to move on. But more than anything, I just think about how things would be different for Dani, were she to have her mom now."

"I sometimes think about moving back to Tennessee so Dani can be close to my aunt, brother and sister—y'know, at least she would have some sort of female influence in her life. But…" Sam shook his head, "My aunt's getting old and was already burdened with having to raise us after my parents died. And brother's in the military so he's not really around, and my sister's only 19; going to college and trying to get her life started. I couldn't burden her by trying to make her be the aunt-slash-pseudo mom. It just sounds so redneck."

He chuckled lightly while Mercedes faintly smiled, "Maybe but I know what you mean to say. You don't want to have her go through what happened with your aunt."

"Exactly. I mean Stacy's a lot younger than our aunt was when she became our legal guardian. I feel like I'd be robbing her of whatever life she wants to make for herself by relying on her to help me raise her niece. So…I stayed out here in California."

"Well, I know we haven't known each other that long but if it means anything to you," she reached out and placed her hand over one of his. Before finishing her sentiment, she felt a inexplicable spark shoot up her arm and spread through every vein in her body. Immediately after, her heart started beating a bit faster than before. She looked down at their overlapping hands with stunned eyes and then looked up into Sam's eyes. He was looking right back at her and cast a small, crooked smile at her.

Finally, some awkward silent seconds later she found her voice again and in a soft hoarse tone said, "I think you're great."

Sam's brows twitched up and his smile grew a bit. Mercedes realized what she said and immediately flushed and stammered, "I-I mean, I think you're _doing _great. With Dani."

Sam's eyes narrowed a fraction but he still sustained his lop-sided smile and nodded slowly at her. "I see. Well thank you, Miss Cedes. Regardless of how long we've known each other, I appreciate the compliment.

Mercedes tucked her lips in her mouth and nodded nervously. She looked around the room like her sense of composure had fled her brain, jumped out of her ear and started dancing tauntingly around the room for her to catch it again. Meanwhile the electric prickles were still getting to her and that damn flutter returned inside her stomach. It all felt like too much of a good feeling at one time. The next thing she knew, she was sliding her chair back from the table and standing up again, "Um…it's getting kinda late and I should get going."

Sam's brows furrowed, "Oh. Um, yeah sure."

She gathered her purse under her arm and strode to the door but could feel Sam's presence close behind her. With her hand on the door handle, she turned back, cast him a nervous smile with her eyes to the floor and told him, "Thank you for inviting me to come see Dani tonight. I had a lot of fun."

When she stared at Sam's face again he looked like he was about to say something but he closed his mouth into a returning smile and nodded, "I'm glad, and I know Dani was too."

She nodded back and faced the door again, whispering, "Goodnight, Sam."

As he closed the door behind her he murmured, "Goodnight Mercedes."

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! And I decided to put a lot of your speculation to rest regarding Sam. He's not hiding his true identity from Mercedes (or you readers); he is indeed a former minor league baseball player and now a janitor at REAL as well as a part-time employee at Best Western. And yes, there's more to learn about him that will come to light in time. ;)**_

_**Chapter title: "Better In Time" by Leona Lewis**_


	7. Hey There Lonely Girl

_**(sorry I hadn't put months at the start before. I started losing track of the time myself and knew it'd likely get more confusing down the road. Anyway, enjoy!)**_

**-February-**

Throughout all of Saturday, while making a failed attempt to get some work done, Mercedes' mind kept thinking about the spark she felt when she touched Sam's hand. This, of course, led to her thinking about Sam, beyond the contact between their hands. She kept seeing his friendly green eyes, his lop-sided smile and the way he sometimes spoke out of the side of his mouth. She thought about that Henley shirt and those arms, hooped with thick muscles. She thought about the way he cared for his daughter—with so much love, affection and patience. And her mind kept circling back to his revelations to her, before she made her abrupt leave.

Later in the evening, after returning to her hotel room with some Chinese takeout, she started to feel a dry itchiness in the back of her throat. She tried not to think much of it, but when she woke up Sunday morning, it had evolved into a full-blown cold. After several whines and groans, Mercedes dragged herself out of bed, threw on some comfortable, yet still stylish clothes and made her way down to the lobby. When she reached the front desk she was surprised to see the hotel's manager, Rachel, standing there.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tinsley."

Mercedes halted and swallowed back the flare of irritation. _She doesn't know, Mercedes. Don't give her attitude_, she reminded herself. "Just…Mercedes is fine," she said and then sniffled. "I'm actually a little glad you're here."

Rachel gave her a surprised, wary gaze, "You are? Are you okay by the way—you sound terrible! I mean…your voice just sounds off."

"I came down with a cold. Can you tell me where there's a CVS around here or something?"

"Oh! Of course, here I'll write the directions down for you."

While Rachel's hands disappeared beneath the high countertop, Mercedes turned away to cough into her elbow. When she looked up, just as she started turning back to the front desk, she caught a glimpse of Sam stepping out of an elevator with a stack of towels under one arm, walking up the hallway towards her. Today he'd been dressed in black slacks, a white dress shirt and a dark grey vest and tie—much like the other Best Western staff members. Initially he regarded her with a friendly smile but when she coughed into her arm again, his expression changed, looking either confused or concerned.

"Here you are, Mercedes," said Rachel, breaking Mercedes' concentration from Sam.

"Thanks," she quickly replied, sliding the slip of paper off the countertop. As she quickly strode out of the hotel's entrance. Seeing him only made her mind flood with thoughts of the previous day, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught ogling him again. She drove to CVS and picked up a humidifier, a bottle of Vitamin C, cough syrup, some bottled water and a bag of cherry cough drops. When she got back to her hotel room, she didn't make any attempts to get work done; it was clear that she was going to fall behind but she lacked the focus and energy to bother with her laptop or phone calls. Instead, she tried to rest and hope it might just be an overnight bug. Luck wasn't on her side, as she woke up feeling worse. She got out of bed and readied herself for work as per usual but upon arriving in the office, she remembered that today was the day Tina was returning from maternity leave. The two normally worked very close but Mercedes had no interest in getting Tina sick, especially when she and her husband had a newborn at home.

When she stepped out of the elevator, her eye briefly caught the red, pink and white festivities that adorned the walls and outer cubicles. She made a beeline to her office, summoning Tina after her with a wave of her hand. She hurried to her desk, bundled up in her magenta pea coat and a thick scarf, and immediately sat at her desk to forward some documents to her laptop and compose an 'out of office' email to send out to her staff.

"Hi Mercedes! It's good to see you!" Tina happily stated as she entered the office.

"Welcome back Tina. How are Mike and Jackson?"

Tina smiled, "They're good. Now that I'm back at work, Mike's taking some time off to be at home with him. I swear he _loooves_ being a dad."

Mercedes returned her smile with a weary one of her own. "I bet they're gonna have fun times together. I'd hug you but I'm coming down with a cold."

"Ooo," winced Tina, crossing the room at a slower pace. "Not to sound rude but…don't you think you should go home then?"

"I am…I mean I will but I have some stuff to fill you in on and some things I needed to get off my computer here before I go."

Tina's wariness for getting sick momentarily waned as she read past the dreary look of illness on Mercedes' face. She nodded once and perched herself in one of the lounge chairs on the other side of her desk. Right away, Mercedes dove in to the things Tina was absent for. She had no interest in burdening her friend with concern while she was on maternity leave, but now that she was back in the office, it felt imperative that Tina know about Shane. The abuse, the heightened security; protecting her assets and her starting steps towards a divorce—all of it came out without any verbal interruptions from Tina. When Mercedes finished b letting Tina know that she was staying at a hotel, Tina looked like she was going to cry.

"Oh my God…Mercedes, I…"

"I know," she replied, wiping her nose with a tissue.

"Have you gotten a restraining order against him?"

She shook her head, "I was going to go to the police station over the weekend but then I started coming down with this cold."

"Mercedes, you need to protect yourself from him. What if he finds out where you're staying?"

Again, Mercedes shook her head, "I can't stress myself out about that, any more than I already do. But I promise, Tina, that once I'm feeling less like death, I'll be at the police station."

Tina grimaced at her, "Okay. I just don't want to see you get hurt any more than he already has."

"I don't either. But I needed you to know what was going on with me. You and Puck are my closest friends—in and outside of work."

With one nod and a devastated expression, Tina asked, "What can I do to help you, Mercedes?"

Mercedes rested her head against the back of her chair and let out a sigh, staring up in thought at Tina's question. What could she do? There wasn't an answer to that. Right now, everything was falling on Mercedes; _she_ needed to meet with Lauren next week. She needed to make the appointment with a counselor, and she needed to reach out to her parents. And she needed to protect her company.

"I don't know, Tina. Just…you and Puck keep an eye out on things here—that would be a huge help, especially while I'm out of the office. We need to start thinking ahead to the April issue, as well as REAL's 5th anniversary party. I'll email you from my hotel room about that, and I do want the senior journalists from each department to be interviewed for the April issue on what 5 years of REAL means to them—whether they've been here the entire time or not."

"Okay, so you want interviews from Santana for politics, Sugar for travel, Brittany for advice, Blaine for home and garden, and Artie for pop culture?"

"Yes, I want all of them interviewed, but I don't want them to feel confined to talking about their department for their interview. Just for them to talk about the magazine in general. What does working here mean to them? What challenges and triumphs have them come across over the years, and what sort of growth do they want to see happen for the company and its effect on society for the next 5 years? Questions like that. I want you to interview them and I want Puck to also be interviewed."

Tina was scribbling rapidly on the notepad she'd brought with her and while she wrote she asked, "What about you?"

"I'll just do my author's note like usual."

Tina looked up—her pen movement slowing. "Oh…okay."

Mercedes dipped her chin without taking her eyes off of her friend, "What?"

"Nothing, just…I figured given what you've been going through for the past..almost 5 years…"

Mercedes picked up on what she was getting at in no time and shook her head, "This is a celebration on the magazine, not an exclusive on the CEO's abusive marriage."

"I know," Tina quietly replied. "I just thought—"

"Tina, please. I can't do this today. Just make sure that the interviews happen before the end of next week so that we can get them in the editing stages by the end of the month."

Tina's look of devastation returned but she kept quiet and nodded. "Is there anything else?"

Mercedes shook her head. "I don't think so. I'm going to get going soon but if anyone spots Shane here for any reason whatsoever, alert security so he can be escorted from the building immediately. Double check my office to make sure it's locked before you go tonight too, okay?"

"No problem, Mercedes." She stood up from the chair and started towards the door. Before going, she turned back and told her in a morose tone, "Take care."

* * *

As soon as she was back in her room, she pulled off her heels, un-dressed and re-dressed into the most comfy pair of pajamas she had, and crawled under the blankets. She flipped the humidifier on, popped a cough drop in her mouth and cuddled with a box of tissues until she was asleep. She didn't know what time she'd returned to the hotel or what time she had fallen asleep but she tossed and turned, waking up and falling back asleep again repeatedly. When she awoke for about the fourth time, the light coming through the curtains was a dim, orange-pink hue. Her heavy-lidded eyes stared at her humidifier before she turned it off and rolled over. It would be too easy for her to go back to sleep again, but three raps on the door changed that. With a twinge of irritation and some heavy reluctance, she got up, slipped on her robe and went to the door. In the peephole, she saw a round, blond-headed face staring down at his side with a soft smile. Mercedes shook her head and pulled the door open to find Sam looking down at Dani, but both their pairs of eyes went to her right away.

"Hi Miss Cedes!" cheered Danica.

"Heyyy, I heard you were under the weather."

Mercedes' brows furrowed. "You heard?"

"Yeah, I mean I heard you coughing when I came down to the lobby yesterday. Then Rachel said you were sick, so…yep, I heard." He grinned softly.

"Unfortunately I am," she croaked with a nod. "What a crummy way to go through Valentine's Day, huh? Sick and soon-to-be-divorcee."

Sam shrugged. "Could be worse. Dani and I decided to bring you some stuff to cheer you up though."

Mercedes tugged the collar of her robe over her mouth and coughed into it; when she pulled it away from her mouth, she revealed a tired but grateful smile to them both. "Aww, you guys are too much." She looked to Dani's smiling face and thanked her, then looked back up to Sam. "I'd invite you in but I don't want you guys to catch my cold, especially after Dani just got over being sick."

"Pleeease Miss Cedes? We brung movies!"

Sam grinned, "Yeah, Dani and I each picked out a movie from our collection for you to watch, but..here." He held a plastic bag out to her and when she took it, she realized it held more weight than two DVDs should possess.

"There's also some Ginger Ale, a bottle of OJ and a pint of Strawberry ice cream in there."

Mercedes' already dry mouth fell open slightly as she stared in the back. When she looked back up at Sam she rasped, "I can't believe you'd do all this for me."

He smiled and shrugged, "It's the least I could do after your advice on helping Dani get better. I was gonna put some of the Vitamin C pills I bought in a Ziploc but...I didn't wanna look like I was dealing, y'know?"

Mercedes chuckled softly but the chuckles quickly turned into coughs. Frustrated, she shook her head but she told Sam, "It's okay. I bought some yesterday at the store. But thank you both so much for thinking of me."

Dani tugged on Sam's pant leg and although she thought she was whispering, her inquiry was plenty loud enough for both Sam and Mercedes to hear. "Can we stay, Daddy?"

Mercedes smiled guiltily. Had she not fallen so il, she would have let them in but she knew Dani getting sick so frequently at a young age wasn't good for her health, and Sam getting sick wasn't going to do him any favors, work-wise.

"Well it's up to Miss Cedes, Danimal. But you and I just got over being sick and that was no fun, huh?"

"No," Dani answered, sounding instantly deflated.

"You were sick too?" asked Mercedes, stifling a yawn.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I think she caught it from me when I was at the tail end of my cold. Now it looks like we passed it on to you. I'm sorry."

Mercedes shook her head, "Don't blame yourself. It's wintertime—_everyone_'s sick this time of year. Then spring rolls around and it's allergy central."

"True," Sam replied with a soft smile. He then grabbed one of Danica's hands and said, "Anyway, we should get going. You look pretty tired and since Dani's got me tonight instead of her sitter and Finn, I need to get her ready for her bath."

"You're not working tonight?"

He shook his head, "Nope, not here and not at _REAL_. Didn't you know? Once a week the janitorial staff members get a day off. This week, mine fell on today, so here I am."

"Ohhh, right, right. I did know that but it slipped my mind. Well don't let me keep you from your night off with your daughter. I'm gonna fiddle around with the DVD player 'til I get one of the movies to play."

Sam arched a brow at her, amused. "You don't know how to work the DVD player?"

"Not this one. I mean all my movies are still at the penthouse, so I never had a reason to use the one in here."

"Daddy can do it!" chirped Danica, giving Sam's jeans several more tugs.

Sam tuck a thumb through his belt loop and shook his head at Danica, "Stop tugging on my pants, Danimal or I'm gonna lose 'em!" He chuckled a few times and Dani immediately stopped. "I can show you really quick if you want, Mercedes."

She stepped aside, opening the door wider and nodded, "That'd be great. Thanks."

Sam and Danica stepped through the threshold and made their way over to the T.V. perched on the dresser in front of her bed. Meanwhile, Mercedes went to stick the ice cream in the tiny freezer space of the mini fridge, and added the orange juice but kept the bottle of Canada Dry out to pour herself a glass. While she did, she stole a few glances at Sam's backside and asked, "So how are you liking working at _REAL _so far? I mean I'm sure cleaning up after our messes can't be all that exciting but…people are treating you OK and all, right?"

Without taking his eyes off of what he was doing he answered back, "Yeah, it's been a good job so far. Getting to know a few of the other janitors, and the head of security seems like a pretty cool guy."

She nodded, screwing the cap back on the bottle. "He is, and he's good at what he does, most of the time."

At that, Sam looked at her like he was trying to read between the lines. Both of them absolved their conversation however, at the question that left Danica's mouth.

"What's this?" asked Dani, picking up Mercedes' wedding ring.

"Oh, Dani put that down," insisted Sam. "You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you."

Mercedes scrutinized the ring after Dani put it back on her nightstand and answered her anyway. "That's is my wedding ring."

"Pretty! Why don't you wear it?"

She could tell Sam was growing uncomfortable due to his daughter's constant inquiries. It took her a moment to figure out an appropriate answer to Danis' question. "Well…" she sniffled and sighed, holding her glass and a wad of tissues, "sometimes some people shouldn't get married. They make a mistake and decide not to be married anymore."

"How come?"

Sam chuckled once, nervously, "Dani um…it's not something that—"

He stopped at the sight of Mercedes shaking her head. With another sniffle, Mercedes made her way over to the bed and told him, "I don't mind. Besides I'm sure you want to know too." When his lips settled and he nodded, Mercedes set her tissue-wielding hands in her lap and looked to Dani. "It can be different reasons for different people. For me, I decided I didn't want to be married anymore because…my husband hurt m—my feelings."

"He sounds mean."

Mercedes softly chuckled and exchanged her tissue wad for her cup of Ginger Ale, "He was very mean to me for a very long time. And that's why I don't want to be with him anymore. I want to be someone who's nice to me."

"Like Daddy?"

She choked on the sip of bubbly ginger ale that was once making its way down her throat. A series of hard coughs, had Mercedes turning her face away so she could cough into her robe collar again. She didn't know whether she was feverish and just now noticing, or if she was now blushing; either way, her face was very, very hot.

"You okay Miss Cedes?" Danica innocently asked, patting Mercedes' leg.

Mercedes nodded, despite her continued coughing. She tried clearing her throat a few times but the irritating scratchy feeling was still well in her throat.

"I think it's time we let Mercedes get some rest so she can feel better, Dani."

Sam's voice was suddenly a lot closer than it had been before she'd turned away. When she looked up, he was standing over her with concern growing in his eyes.

"You sure you're okay?" he softly asked.

She nodded back, mesmerized by his gaze. "I'll be fine," she told him in an equally soft-spoken tone.

"It's starting! Look! Miss Cedes!"

Danica's cheering jolted Sam and Mercedes out of their private moment. She scooted to the end of the bed, giving herself a front row seat as _The Princess and the Frog_ began to play on the screen.

Sam gave Mercedes a hesitant look and Mercedes merely smiled and shrugged, settling herself in the middle of the bed beneath the covers. Sam walked around to the other side and perched himself on the edge near the headboard for back support. A few times, the two of them exchanged amused glances at the commentary Danica was giving, as well as her humming and occasional singing along to the music.

"We've seen this movie one too many times," Sam confessed in a low tone.

Mercedes softly giggled and whispered back, "There's never too many times to see a Disney movie."

After a disagreeing stare, Sam muttered, "I knew I should've put _Avatar_ in first."

"And how many times have you watched _that_?" she wittily replied.

She watched Sam deliberately turn his head towards the curtains, causing Mercedes to laugh.

"Shhh!" insisted Danica. "Guuuuyss, you're gonna miss it!"

Mercedes clamped her mouth shut and looked at Sam. He was also trying not to laugh but he muttered, "Sorry, Dani. We're watching."

They kept quiet but were both shaking with silent laughs. When they calmed down from their quiet titters, the two of them actually paid attention to the movie, with occasional glances to one another.

"Do you sing, Miss Cedes?" asked Dani as she twisted around to look hopefully at Mercedes. Tiana was singing 'Almost There' and Dani had been mumbling some of the lyrics here and there until the question popped into her mind.

"Usually, yes."

"Sing with me, kay!"

Mercedes softly chuckled, "I would but I'm too sick to sing, Dani."

Danica pouted, "Aww… okie."

Mercedes wanted to pout too, from how quickly she had disappointed the little girl. But thanks to fast thinking she told her, "How about this: as soon as I feel better, if your daddy's okay with it, we'll watch this again and sing all the songs together."

Like the switch of a light, Danica completely brightened up. "Kay!"

Sam smiled at Mercedes and nodded while mouthing, "Thank you." Mercedes nodded back and settled back against the pillows. Towards the end of the film however, her heavy eyes started to get the better of her and she slumped against the pillows. She didn't know when exactly but eventually she slipped back into unconsciousness; her head lolled to one side until it landed softly against Sam's shoulder.

When she woke up again, the room was dark and quiet. Her forehead creased in confusion and for a moment she wondered if Sam and Danica being in her room was all just a dream, but when she rolled over to turn on the desk lamp, her breast smashed something paper-like.

"What the hell?" she croaked.

Once the light clicked on, she sat up, yawned and picked up the note pad sitting beside her. Sam's chicken scratch told her that she hadn't dreamt a thing:

_Dani and I let ourselves out. She fell asleep too…right after I put Avatar on. Sorry if Dani embarrassed you earlier. Enjoy the ice cream and hope you feel better soon. –Sam_

It wasn't until she read, "Sorry if Dani embarrassed you earlier" that she recalled the 4 year-old girl's inquiries about her divorce and getting together with her father. She wasn't sure if it was the early onset of a fever or merely her face flushing from the memory, but Mercedes did start thinking about Sam in that way, whether she wanted to or not. They hadn't known each other long but he always put her at ease, and was incessantly kind—sometimes more than she felt she deserved. He held the door open for her all through the night of Danica's dance recital, and he had the courtesy of letting her rest when she fell asleep through the movie.

Yes, Sam Evans was someone who deserved a lot more in life than what he'd been given. She didn't know how right it was for her to ponder too much on it, but she did know that Sam and Dani were warmth—a flame that Mercedes was quickly finding herself drawn to after the icy burns inflicted by her soon-to-be ex. And as she lay in bed, reading Sam's note again, she didn't know that she was going to find herself spending more and more time in the coming weeks, ebbing further away from her icy, ailing past and nearing her newly discovered flame.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews. I know people have a lot of questions with some of the things that have been brought up so far but I promise I have answers to all of them. All will be revealed in due time. ;) I will say however, that one person so far has made one correct guess about a big part in the story. I won't say 'who', but once again—all will be revealed in due time!**_

_**Chapter title: "Hey There Lonely Girl" by The Stylistics**_


	8. Conspiracy

**-February-**

They say hardships usually come to a person in threes.

1-Escaping a physically and mentally abusive husband.  
2-Stressing over an anonymous shark pursuing the shares of her company.  
Yep, Mercedes was due for her third hardship. She just didn't know when it would come to collect.

* * *

During the remainder of the week that she had been ill, she still did her best to get some work done from her laptop, while also holding regular conference calls with Puck and Tina. She'd also scheduled a meeting with Lauren Zizes, and made one attempt to call her parents before quickly hanging up. She knew it was childish but after having gone over 5 years without speaking to them, her guilt made her terrified of what they might have to say to her. Her bright spot in all of the guilt, stress and sickness was getting visits from Sam around lunchtime. He made his stays brief—or at least he always intended to, but they ended up chatting until he had to go pick up Dani from preschool.

She took the weekend to build her immune system back up and then returned to work on Monday. Reaching the end of the month, she'd come to two realizations—the April issue of _REAL_ was not in the editing stages yet, and the warm Spring weather was quickly coming over Los Angeles. Though she had packed most of her belongings when she left, some of her favorite Spring clothes and accessories, as well as a few keepsake items she thought she'd grabbed were still at the penthouse. Her mind was torn over retrieving them for several days, but she finally decided to go and pick them up, the day she was meeting with Lauren Zizes. Lauren informed her that she would be meeting with other clients for most of the day, but they could meet for dinner, so she went to the penthouse during her lunch break.

Her heart started beating harder when she reached the garage; she was familiar enough with Shane's work schedule to know that he wouldn't be home at this time, but it didn't stop the knot in her stomach that made her fearful. She was thankful to have Puck go with her, though she would never forgive herself if for some reason, Shane was there and he and Puck got into a fight.

"You could always buy new clothes, 'Cedes," he told her while they stood in the elevator.

She immediately wondered if her fear was written all over her face, and when she looked up at Puck it seemed apparent that her fear was indeed transparent. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs up as though the air would fill her with confidence, and as she let it go she told him, "I know, and you know I usually go buy new clothes anyway. But it's not just the rest of my clothes in there. My senior yearbook's in there; a necklace my mom gave me before I moved out here is still there, and a bunch of my pictures. I just want us to get it all and go."

"Well…lucky we didn't see his car, so you can calm down."

Mercedes nodded, "I know."

The elevator doors opened and she led the way to the front door. Thankful that her key still worked, she let them both in and started in the living room to show Puck where her yearbook and photos would be. She then went to the main hallway while saying, "I'm gonna get my clothes and necklace."

"Alright," Puck called back, pulling the drawer below the coffee table open.

Mercedes entered the bedroom and almost immediately shivered inside her pea coat. She took one quick look around the room, feeling odd and hollow, as she gave a fleeting glance to the messy bed, the eggshell walls, and the dark furniture. With another deep breath, she went to the closet. Her brows furrowed when she saw that the large storage bin where she usually kept her Spring and summer wear was empty. Her heard picked up its pace again when she turned on her heels and went to her old nightstand to check for the small box where her remaining jewelry should have been. Her heard dropped to her stomach when it wasn't there, but her attitude immediately began to shift towards anger at the thought of Shane selling off her necklace. She could hardly acknowledge the anger she felt towards herself for having left it here in the first place; the prospect of Shane making a trip to the nearest pawn shot had her temper flaring, fast.

She used the edge of the bed to stand up again but half her fingers were pressed against one material while the rest were touching another. Her gaze dropped and again she froze. Immediately, Mercedes drew her hand away when she saw it'd been touching a pair of silk, powder pink thong underwear. She never owned a pair of pink underwear—hell she was never even a fan of buttfloss—not to mention this particular pair looked too many sizes too small to be hers. As soon as her mind processed what had happened in this bed at some point over the past few weeks, her hand suddenly felt very tainted. The _room_ felt tainted, and the desire to leave was strong.

Her eyes wouldn't leave the floor as she strode out of the room and went straight for the door. She almost didn't acknowledge Puck's confused inquiries when she reached the door, but her lowered gaze spotted a large black trash bag—labeled as such on its front—sitting open next to the front door. Sitting on top of its content was the small keepsake box she'd been looking for. She crouched down to rifle through the bag as Puck approached her, sounding obviously frustrated by her lack of response.

"Are you hearing me, 'Cedes? Why'd you go storming down to the door like you just saw a ghost?"

"He cheated," she whispered, opening her box; a watered down dose of relief overcame her when she saw her necklace, and when she looked beyond the box, she saw all her remaining belongings stuffed inside the bag.

"What are you talking about?" asked Puck, obviously struggling to keep up.

Mercedes shook her head a few times, bringing her gaze back to her necklace. "Let's go."

"Huh?"

"_Let's go_, Puck," she said more sternly, rising to her feet. She slipped the box into her large purse while rising to her full 5'2" stance again. She opened the door and grabbed the trash bag but Puck's hand came over hers to take the bag. They left the penthouse in silence, and once Mercedes got into the passenger's seat of Puck's Cadillac she balled a fist over her lips, gazed out of the window for a long moment, and then lowered her head in her hands. Her chest tightened and she was certain she would cry but no tears came. She felt Puck's hand come up to her shoulder and give it a comforting rub as he drove.

* * *

"Just say the word, Mercedes," he muttered to break the silence when they were back in the parking lot of _REAL_.

She raised her head and looked at him, "What?"

"You said he cheated. Say the word and he's a dead man."

"Puck…"

"No, don't 'Puck' me this time Mercedes. I swear if that asshole comes anywhere near you again—even if it's just to ask the time, I'ma beat the shit out of him."

Mercedes only sighed in response. She didn't see the point in reasoning with Puck when she knew without a doubt that her best friend meant exactly what he was saying to her; it wasn't a threat but a promise.

She placed her hand on the passenger door handle and mumbled, "Let's get the bag in my trunk."

Puck followed her out of the car and to her Camaro. Once her bag of belongings was in the trunk she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes headed inside the office and up the elevator with Puck. Upon reaching the top floor, Puck gave her arm a comforting squeeze and stepped out first, heading for his desk while Mercedes strode directly for her office. Though she tried to narrow her focus, she saw Tina pop up from her desk and head straight for her.

"Mercedes—"

"I can't right now, Tina."

"It's really important."

She shook her head, "Whatever it is can wait until morning."

"No it can't!" Tina insisted—her voice growing suddenly sharp.

Mercedes stopped and turned her head in Tina's direction, staring at her friend through her tinted lenses. With a resigned sigh, "Okay."

Part of her felt guilty for snapping at Tina, but a bigger part of her was too fragmented to feel guilty about anything. But she let Tina into her office and took a seat at her desk again, trying to force her mind back into work mode.

"Sebastian called while you and Puck were gone…"

Mercedes nodded once, sharply. "And?"

"He hasn't' been able to find out who your anonymous shark is yet, but he does know that whoever it is that's behind trying to buy out the majority of _REAL_'s shares is moving a lot more swiftly now and there's a good chance that they'll be able to persuade some of the others into selling."

Her head began to shake slowly in disbelief while she listened to what was coming out of Tina's mouth. She wasn't looking at Tina when she heard her quietly attempted to cushion the blow.

"Mercedes? Maybe…whoever this is—maybe, if they did buy the shares it wouldn't be so bad."

Mercedes stared at her with no trace of being of the same mind. During her response to Tina she strained to keep her tone and attitude in check. "Tina no one looking to buy out the majority of any company is going to keep things the way they are. If that happens, I'm going to lose the controlling vote of my own company."

"But…you don't know that…"

At that, Mercedes snapped. All her anger, confusion, hurt and defensiveness had been one giant mine in her head that Tina just stepped on. And Mercedes didn't know what else to do, so she yelled, "What am I supposed to do then?! What am I doing wrong? I really wanna know! I really want God to tell me what am I doing wrong so I can do things differently! Because obviously what I do is never good enough! It's not good enough for me to secure my own company. It's not good enough for me to have an abuse-free marriage, or for me to keep my husband from fucking someone else in my bed!"

She ripped her sunglasses off her face and threw them against the wall, not caring if they survived the neglect. Tina's eyes had gone wide but Mercedes didn't respond to her reaction, beyond felling more. "So I'm not good enough to avoid letting any of that happen. Nope, and none of that's enough for me to lose my mind over—nope because I also have to worry about losing control of my own damn company!"

Her head dropped in her hands and let hard, heavy sobs leave her. She choked on more pleas and inquiries, and shuddered as the image of the underwear flashed repeatedly in her mind—much like the smacks Shane delivered to her face.

Though she was feeling plenty suffocated in her thoughts and cries, Tina's slender arms came around her tightly. At first Mercedes merely accepted the embrace; she needed something to hold her together as she felt like she was coming unglued. But soon her arms circled around Tina's middle and she was hugging her back just as desperately.

They stayed that way for what felt like an hour to Mercedes, though she doubted that they'd been in her office for that long.

"I can't deal with all this, Tina…" she said when she finally gained control of her cries. She raised her head as Tina reached out to her desk and plucked a few tissues from the box. After Mercedes graciously accepted them, Tina pulled one of the lounge chairs around so that she could sit beside Mercedes, rather than across from her.

"You need to deal with filing your divorce, Mercedes. Put all this towards that. And let Sebastian worry about REAL; he'll figure it out, if nothing else, for the sole fact that keeping things as they are would help him too with you being his client. And with Shane and the whole cheating thing…"

Mercedes shook her head, "You know, it's not even the act so much that gets to me—I want to be just as done with him as he apparently is with me. It's got more to do with him just being hell bent on treating me more worthless than pocket lint. I just don't understand what happened to him to make him hate me this much."

Tina grabbed some more tissues and leaned forward; Mercedes closed her eyes and let her friend clean up her face. "People change, 'Cedes—whether it's for the better or for the worse. Shane's one of those people…I guess he couldn't handle you changing for the better."

"I haven't really changed though."

"Yes you have. You might not see it but you have. It isn't a bad change though so don't worry. You've grown into a really successful woman. Maybe he just couldn't handle that. Maybe it was just easier for him when you were just starting out. But look at him—he struggled to get where he's at and sure the firm he's at is doing alright but…it's not _his_ firm. He's still working for someone like he's been all his life, right?"

Mercedes noded once, taking in all of what Tina was saying.

"I'm not defending or justifying anything he's done to you. His dick can rot off for all I care…"

Mercedes' eyes flew open and for the first time that day she snorted a laugh.

Tina went on without missing a beat, "But I do think it's at least an explanation, you know? Hopefully one that can help give you some peace of mind. But…don't let him beat you Mercedes—not just physically but mentally too. Don't let him wear you down anymore. Cut your ties with him as much as you can, as soon as you can because despite all he's done to you, you did seem kind of happy lately."

A smile fought to appear on Mercedes' lips but she held it a bay while immediately thinking of Sam. "Thanks, Tina."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that janitor staying at the same hotel as you, would it?"

Heat immediately crept onto Mercedes' cheeks, but before she could say anything, Tina added, "Puck told me. And he also told me you seemed like you kinda like the guy."

At that, Mercedes rolled her eyes. "He's really nice. So is his daughter—Tina, oh my goodness you have to meet her someday."

"I'd love to but I also wanna meet her dad someday. Do I need to start sticking around past 5 like you do?" smirked Tina.

Mercedes lost the battle against her smiling lips.

"Is he good-looking?"

Sheepishly, Mercedes nodded.

"Well, well, well I have to say 'Cedes, I am not a fan of you keeping this secret from me. Nope."

Tina stood up tossing the damp tissues away and as she moved the lounge chair back to its proper place, she said, "You owe me some explanations very soon, missy. But until then…" the playful tone left and her more serious tone returned, "Take care of _you_, Mercedes. I know this whole…infidelity thing is really raw for you right now but don't let it consume you okay? Puck and I are always here for you if you need to talk or want help finding a new place to live, or whatever, okay?"

Again Mercedes nodded—her smile fading away.

Tina crossed the room and lingered at the door long enough to sincerely tell her, "I hope your meeting with Lauren goes well later."

"Me too, Tina," she replied, staring at her mess of a desk.

* * *

Mercedes spent the latter half of her day behind her desk, typing furiously. Puck popped in a couple of times—the last to let her know he was heading out for the day. Tina had done the same, not five minutes ago. The harder she tried focusing on her work, the more the image of the pink thong burned inside her skull. Before she knew it, she found herself muttering things under her breath like, "…Probably full of shit streaks," and, "…Hope she gives him herpes." At that, her terrible guilty conscience had her saying a quick prayer for forgiveness that was interrupted by the loud ringing of her desk phone.

"This is Mercedes," she answered. Right away, she pinned the handset between her ear and shoulder to free her hands for some more rapid typing. "Mhm…no, I have a conference call from one-to-two with her publicist that day so that I can try to book her for the June issue."

_Knock, knock, knock_.

She cupped her hand over the transmitting end, "Come in," and then promptly went back to her call. Upon seeing Sam enter her office and quietly close the door, she cast a smile that didn't reach her eyes at him, and then took to writing herself a note to call her parents soon.

"Okay, great. Yeah, I'll have my assistant try to set something up before the weekend...okay…thanks. Bye."

Upon hanging up, she let out a loud sigh, rubbed her temples and said, "Hi, Sam."

"Morning, madam," he replied with a friendly smirk. "Why the long face?"

She sadly and briefly smiled at him, thinking back to her earlier conversation with Tina. "Nothing—just…finalizing the April issue is proving to be more infuriating than I thought. It'll be _REAL_'s 5 year anniversary."

"Mhm I remember you telling me last week. I would think getting together an anniversary edition of _REAL _would be fun."

"Not entirely. We're trying to fit a lot into this issue," she answered, not meeting his gaze.

Sam's large lips fell to a soft grimace, "Oh. Well…not that there's anything wrong with that but…you are doing something for Spring, right?"

She faintly chuckled once, "Yeah, of course, but it's a special edition with REAL's 5-year anniversary also being in April."

At that, he nodded slowly but other than that he didn't really look interested in what Mercedes had coming up for her second spring issue. "Hey, I know your life's been pretty hectic lately but…what if you split the feature in the magazine for April, or made it a double feature?"

Mercedes raised her brow, "How is doubling the work going to make my life less hectic?"

Sam took a seat in one of her lounge chairs while telling her, "You told me the head people in your staff were interviewed for this issue. But what about you? I'd been thinking…maybe you could have yourself interviewed and talk about what happened—but only as much as you'd be okay with talking about. I mean your _exact_ situation's a little unique but…abuse isn't."

The fingers that had been dancing along her keyboard suddenly stopped at the word 'abuse'. She slowly withdrew her hands from the keyboard; her eyes gazed somewhere far away. "Tina thought I should do that too…" she whispered without looking at him again.

Sam leaned in, reaching to close his hands around hers, "See? I think this could be a really great healing process for y—"

"No."

Sam blinked. He took a moment and then started, "Mercedes, you—"

"I said _no_, Sam," she repeated firmly, pulling her hands out from beneath his.

Right away, Sam's jaw clenched. He watched her start to busy herself with typing on the computer again and at first, he was prepared to back off, but something clearly tugged hard at his stubbornness. "Why not, Mercedes? This could be good therapy for you. Healing and all that."

"Good therapy?" she mocked, hiking her tone and volume up. "I haven't even _talked_ to a therapist yet about it! No! I'm not going public with this in my magazine, Sam!"

"_You_ started this company," he fired back, rising from his seat. "_You_ came up with the motto yourself. _REAL_: Remembering and Embracing_ All_ Lives. What kind of favor or message are you sending women and men out there who are going through the same situation as you? That they should hide it? That they should never talk about it? Lie to people who really care about them, and go about their days, acting like it's not happening to them?"

"I never lied," she growled with a trembling voice.

"Oh don't start with the half-truths, Mercedes. You might not have lied but you didn't tell the truth either—not until after that gorilla tried to beat you senseless!"

"Stop it," she feebly demanded.

"No, Mercedes. You have a chance to do something truly incredible and _real_ for your magazine and for its millions of readers out there but you're more concerned about keeping up an image?"

"It's not that easy!" she shrieked back—her eyes pooling with tears. "It shouldn't be hard to talk about it but it is, Sam! You have no idea how hard it was for me to tell anyone! I didn't tell my best friends for _years_! I sat on these secrets for years and you know what? It was stupid and difficult! I can't just treat it like I'm going on _Oprah_ to answer a few questions about the magazine! This is _my_ personal life!"

"_Exactly_! And who cares about easy, Mercedes? Who said anything about easy?! You've said, time and time again that you prided yourself on not taking the easy way when you started this magazine! Tabloids are easy! Gossip is easy! But allowing a politician to talk about his coming out to his conservative family, or publishing an article on the growth of eating disorders amongst teenagers," he counted off on his fingers, "or learning to be comfortable in your own skin when you're plus size, interviewing rape victims and _domestic violence victims_? No! _None_ of those are easy but they're a hell of a lot more relatable and substantial than finding out Lindsey Lohan stepped out of a limo without her panties on!"

His tongue was sharp and vicious as his temper took over—something Mercedes had never seen from him. But before saying another word, Sam stormed away and yanked her office door open. He lowered his tone without dismissing his anger and cast one more furious look at her. "You're a beautiful, smart, talented and strong woman, Mercedes. It didn't take me long to figure all that out about you but I honestly never thought I'd be disappointed in you."

He limped out without another word and closed the door, hard, leaving a teary-eyed Mercedes with silence as her company. Little did she know that the silence between her and Sam would carry on for days.

She wanted him to understand; she wanted to tell him all that she'd revealed to Tina, and eventually Puck that day but she'd felt so ambushed by their argument that it never made its way out of her mouth. And now his lack of understanding and her anger for his lack of understanding had her back in tears for the longest minutes. When she was finally able to pull herself together again, she gathered up her things in very lifeless motions, holding next-to-no confidence that her meeting with Lauren would go any better than the rest of her day had been.

* * *

1-Escaping a physically and emotionally abusive husband.  
2-Stressing over an anonymous shark pursuing the shares of her company.  
3-Inadvertently angering one of the greatest bright spots to enter her life.  
Oh, and finding out the physically and emotionally abusive husband is also a cheater.

They say hardships usually come to a person in threes.

Usually.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! I promise to give a little more of Sam's PoV in the next chapter! I'm sorry this update took so long. Not only did this chapter prove to be a difficult one to write out, but I've been all over the place this past week. I promise to update soon, along with my other fics!**_

_**Chapter title: "Conspiracy" by Paramore.  
I changed it from the Sparkle/R. Kelly song because it felt more fitting due to the lyrics in the Paramore song: "Explain to me this conspiracy against me/and tell me how I lost my power…"**_


	9. Lean on Me

**-February-**

Mercedes managed to find Lauren's apartment without much difficulty. She knocked on the door and only had to wait a moment before receiving an answer. Standing on the other side of the now open door was taller, more voluptuous woman than herself with a pair of oval-framed eyeglasses sitting in the middle of her face.

"Mercedes Jones?"

She nodded and the taller woman extended a hand for a brief, firm handshake. "Lauren Zizes. Nice to meet you, and come in."

As soon as she stepped aside, Mercedes stepped through the threshold and briefly looked around; Lauren's apartment was small and colorful but tidy. Mercedes heard a muffled jingling sound—like metal clinking together, followed by a long whimper.

"Sorry…you're not allergic to dogs or anything are you?"

Mercedes shook her head, "No, I actually love dogs. I just don't own one."

"I do," Lauren replied, gesturing to the loveseat for Mercedes to sit on. "He's a little Yorkie-poo but I figured it'd be less of a distraction if he stayed in my room."

"That's fine," Mercedes said. "Thanks for still meeting me today by the way."

"Of course. I should be thanking _you_ actually. I didn't want to cancel our sushi plans but things got busier today than I planned. So tell me what's happened, Mercedes. Sebastian's under the impression that you're leaving things out from him but he's fully prepared to honor client-attorney confidentiality for your business, as am I. However, you don't really know me so maybe you feel more comfortable talking about things with me?"

Mercedes gave Lauren a thoughtful nod while lowering her gaze to the floor. Immediately her thoughts went to Sam, whom she hadn't known very long, but felt herself growing deeply connected to. But she pushed thoughts of Sam aside and tried to focus on her reason for seeing this divorce attorney. With closed eyes and a deep breath, she divulged in her disintegrating marriage and her reason for wanting to file for a divorce.

Towards the end of her explanation, Mercedes was surprised at herself that she hadn't begun to cry again. She paused from her rather explicit telling, and then looked up at Lauren again. "I just want to cut as many ties with him as possible, and not put myself or my company in any sort of financial risk because of him. I know he's going to want some kind of money from me—he's already been getting money from me through our joint account."

"Do you use that account?"

"Rarely," Mercedes nearly scoffed. "I don't anymore, but I used to use it for paying bills and getting gas for my car, but ever since I left, I've been using my personal account for certain payments and my business account for others."

"I know it seems dumb to ask but does he have access to either of those accounts?"

Mercedes shook her head, "No. I don't know if he knew about my personal account or not—maybe he did but he never confronted me about it if he did, and he can't access the funds there. And the only tie he's got to _REAL_ is his signature on the loan contract that helped me start the business."

"So he's never signed off on projects, investments, donations, or anything like that that the company's been involved in?"

"No."

Lauren nodded comprehensively and typed fervently across her laptop. "Now before I go ahead and draw up the papers for your divorce, I need to know that you're absolutely sure you want to go through with this. I mean I'm not doubting you by any means—not after everything you've told me but it's still important that I ask."

For the first time aloud, Mercedes said, "I made a mistake marrying Shane. I'm sure of that, and I'm equally sure that I don't want to be married to him anymore. I'll go through whatever battle I have to; if he wants to fight me over his consignment on the loan then so be it, but I won't stay married to him any longer than I have to."

"Have to, meaning any longer than it takes to get the divorce papers in your hand?"

Her tone wasn't suggesting a question but rather an assumption, that Mercedes nodded 'yes' to without hesitation.

"You did the right thing by guarding your business with the restraining order to keep him out of your building. What about the hotel you're staying at? Does the order extend to anywhere you're at or is it solely prohibiting him from _REAL_?"

"Just _REAL_. My stay at the hotel's not permanent…in fact I'm going to look at some apartments to move into after these papers are signed. I just don't want any more ties to him before I go establishing a life elsewhere."

"Are you planning to leave LA?"

"Not if I don't have to. Traffic is hell around here but if it's between my safety and sitting through hours of commuter crap, I'll take the traffic."

Lauren's lips quirked in a small smile, "Good."

Mercedes found herself smiling a bit as well and as Lauren typed some more, silence filled the space between them until Mercedes said, "Sorry."

"Uh…for what?" asked Lauren, looking at her quizzically.

"I just…I was really dreading this. Today hasn't been the greatest y'know? I figured it was gonna just stay that way but…being here and getting through this process is making me feel a lot better than I thought I would. Thank you."

Lauren nodded, "After what you told me happened on your lunch today? I can imagine this has to be a nice middle finger in the air?"

Mercedes chuckled, "Without a doubt. It wasn't just that though. Sam—someone that works at _REAL_, and my assistant, Tina…they both suggested I go public with this in my magazine. The abuse and all."

"Are you?"

"No," Mercedes replied without hesitation.

"Why not?" Lauren asked. It wasn't accusatory but rather, her voice held genuine curiosity.

With a sigh, Mercedes told her, "If I go ahead and do an interview, and publish it in my magazine, the people reading it will look at me like I've been fake with them—the very opposite of everything _REAL_ stands for."

Lauren arched a brow at her. She set her laptop down on the cushion beside her for a moment and then turned her attention back to Mercedes. "How is keeping the truth buried any better than coming out and being honest with your readers? Plus, I think you're doing a disservice by not giving your readers the benefit of the doubt considering most abuse victims aren't forthcoming to talk about what they've been through—not right off the bat at least. And how long do you think it will be before your divorce goes public anyway? Mercedes, you wine and dine with A-List celebrities. You've had a lot of them on the cover of your magazine. You rub elbows with them at fashion week—you've got upper crust connections."

Mercedes gawked at her with a look that had her wordlessly wondering, "_How'd you know all that?_" to which Lauren smugly replied, "I do my research."

"And as for Sam and Tina? That's their names, right? It sounds like they're just trying to help because they love you."

Her gaze snapped up and then fell to the floor. "Sam hardly knows me," she mumbled with a flushed face.

"Well I don't know Sam or your assistant but I'm just going off of what you've told me. And if your assistant knows you pretty well like you're alluding, and she's telling you the same thing that he is, then I'd say he might know you better than you think."

At that, Mercedes quieted. She let Lauren's words resonate in her mind and then faintly smiled, recalling various moments she and Sam had spent together; it was true—they hadn't known each other for very long, but in the time that they had known each other, they spent a lot of time together, just talking and laughing and gazing. Whenever it seemed like it could turn into more, Mercedes would pull away or make an excuse to get away from him, but she was frequently thinking about him. Up until today he had been unfailingly kind to her, and she was already head over heels in love with Danica. But now she was questioning if she was falling for Sam, and more than that, was it right for her to be falling for him? She knew she was done with Shane and after today she was emotionally bankrupt of any good feelings towards him, but legally she was still bound to him. Did legalities really matter when it came to feelings of the heart though?

She turned these thoughts over like pancakes ona griddle until Lauren snapped her out of her thoughts.

"You still here?"

Mercedes shook her head rapidly but told her, "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine. Anyway, I think we're all done and I'm sorry again for changing up the dinner plans. I just needed to get some things done here and figured it would be easier for you to meet me."

"It's fine, and Sebastian was right—you sound like you really now your stuff, and now I feel like I should double what I'll owe you."

Lauren's brows furrowed, "Why?"

"Well I kinda feel like you just spared me from having to find a therapist to consult."

Lauren chuckled, "Well don't cancel that option if your mind changes. I do what I can, and…without revealing details I'll tell you that I've had clients in your shoes in the past. And it took them a hell of a lot longer to get away from their Shanes. I'm just glad you and those others _did_ get out. For me…that would be my reason for wanting to see you speak out about your situation. Not for boosting your rep or anything like that. Just for the simple fact that you'd be giving a real voice to people out there who haven't gotten out of their situation and might not feel strong enough to do so." She stood up and escorted Mercedes to the door while adding, "At least think it over, Ms. Jones. You would be doing a very powerful and potentially influential thing if you did this."

Mercedes clamped her teeth around the inside of her cheek and gave Lauren one nod, "Thanks again, Ms. Zizes."

"Lauren."

As Mercedes stepped through the door she turned back and nodded, "Thanks Lauren."

* * *

**-March- (Sam's PoV)**

It was the beginning of March, which meant he had only come to know Mercedes for about a month now, but so much had been revealed to him about her—more than he imagined he'd find out about her in that amount of time. He remembered the first day he saw her and his initial thought was that she was a beautiful woman. She was thicker than any girl he'd previously thought about taking an interest in, but it didn't matter to him; Mercedes made it very clear, very fast that her curves were something she embraced and wore well. Then there was that smile of hers. She charmed the hell out of him with that smile alone—the one she wore when he first showed her his picture of Dani; the very same one she wore whenever he teasingly called her Miss Cedes, or when the two of them were shushed by Danica for talking through _The Princess and the Frog_.

And there were layers to Mercedes that he'd become smitten over. She could flip her CEO/businesswoman persona on and off at the appropriate times, while still maintaining all her sass, love and brilliance. Then there was her baggage, better known as her husband. He didn't know what caused her to put up with his abuse for years but he truly believed that whatever damage her soon-to-be ex had done to her was not permanent. Each time she smiled at him or showed Danica love; every time she added a victory for her company, or simply kept herself going on a day-to-day, she was taking her power back. And through her healing—whether she knew she was doing it or not—he was falling for her.

He didn't know who to talk to about it. He tried talking to Finn, who was usually his go-to person on things, but Finn only gave him the most generic response known to man. "_Man, that sucks dude. I'm sorry. Well I hope things work out for you soon_." He lost touch with a lot of his old baseball teammates after his wife died, which was something he blamed on himself, and the friends he was making at REAL amongst the security and janitorial staff weren't exactly ideal to discuss this with. Telling any them that he had feelings for the CEO, spelled rumors that he wasn't ready to endure—not without him telling Mercedes first. Something told him that Rachel knew; she hadn't been quite as willing to do favors for him in the past, unless it was somehow beneficial to her or the hotel. And then there was his all too insightful daughter.

They were now spending his next day off at the hotel, utilizing the indoor pool during the late Tuesday afternoon, following his fight with Mercedes. It took almost a week for the guilt to outweigh his pride in how right he felt about what he said, and much of said guilt had been brought on by the conversation he had with Danica at the pool.

"Daddy?" she asked while kicking her legs beneath her lime-colored inner tube.

Sam had been swimming the length of the pool, but he stopped when he got close to her, "Yes ma'am?"

"Is Miss Cedes still not feeling good?"

Sam's eager-to-please look fell, "Um…no, Danimal she's feeling better. Why?"

"'Cause she said when she feels better we could watch Princess and the Frog and sing songs together, 'member? 'Member, Daddy?"

His first heavy pang of guilt hit him. He'd felt little prickles throughout the remainder of the week last week when he only regarded Mercedes with a curt nod or a cheeky, "Good evening, Miss." And the bristle of guilt got to him more on the weekend when he hadn't seen or spoken to Mercedes at all, but the prickles were nothing compared to the naïve interest his daughter had.

"I remember, Dani."

"Can we go visit her?"

He tried to divert her attention by smiling and asking, "I thought we were swimming and then having dinner?"

She gave an exasperated sigh, "Kay can we go see her after dinner?"

"It'll probably be bath time and bedtime by then."

Dani frowned, "I wanna go see her though, Daddy."

Sam pushed a hand through his damp hair and sighed as well, "I don't think now's a good time, Dani."

"How come?"

He stared at the water, searching for a less forward answer to give his daughter. He finally came up with, "Sometimes grown-ups need space."

"For what?"

Sam gently pulled her inner tube towards him while he walked back wards in the water to sit on the stairs, "Well sometimes some adults have a lot of stuff they have to do, and they need time to themselves to figure things out."

"Why?"

"It's just part of growing up, Dani. Things get hard sometimes and you just gotta spend time alone."

Dani's plump bottom lip jutted out and Sam lightly poked it back, "Miss Cedes told you she'd sing with you, Danimal. Have some faith that she'll keep her word, okay?"

"Kay," Dani sadly replied, nodding her head.

Sam watched her kick her feet in an attempt to swim away; meanwhile he remained seated on the steps, thinking over what he'd just told his daughter. On top of that, he continued to think about how he'd treated Mercedes, the last time they'd really spoken to one another. Certainly, he could have spoken to her in a kinder tone, however, she'd been so quick to shoot down his idea that his temper flared quickly and he'd snapped at her. He saw the sting of his harsh words in her eyes and he felt terrible. It was bad enough that her husband belittled and beat her, but now he was fussing at her too—something he realized too late that she'd never seen him do.

He tried to think about how best to remedy the situation while letting Danica swim a bit longer. When he felt it was time to get up and head back to the room for dinner, his mind had drawn a blank on a way to make it up to her. He pat-dried himself off and then helped Dani secure one of the towels around her shoulders. The two headed out together, up the elevators and then to their room. Sam pulled Danica's damp pigtails out and then told her she could sit on his bed and dry off while watching T.V. until he finished making them dinner.

In the midst of cutting up some celery sticks for him and Danica, Sam was thinking about how to approach things with Mercedes. While he still felt strongly about her giving the interview, he also felt his approach in telling Mercedes about it might have been too abrasive. He wanted to apologize to her while making it clear that his apology wasn't for what he said but for the way he'd said it to her.

He went to place the celery sticks on a plate when a sudden, sharp pain constricted around his right knee, causing him to drop the celery—half of which missed the plate. He gasped and hissed a groan, doubling forward to clutch his knee, but he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

"Daddy? What's wrong?" asked Dani.

Sam's pain rendered him nearly speechless. He ground his teeth together, rocking back and forth on the floor while gripping both hands around his knee.

"Daddy are you okay?" Dani sadly asked. "Does your knee hurt again?"

His eyes were squeezed shut but he nodded, hearing the fear in Danica's voice. He wanted to tell her he'd be okay, but the pain bound his words inside his mouth. Over his gruff groans, he heard Danica's feet trot away from him.

"I'm gonna get Aunt Rachel, kay Daddy? I go get her."

"No! Dani don't!" Sam loudly groaned.

"Don't worry Daddy! I be right back, kay? Aunt Rachel can help!"

"No, Danica!"

"I'll be back!"

"Danica!" he hollered but it was too late—the heavy lock on their door shut, causing Sam to slam his fist into the nearby low cabinet. He sat up, griping unintelligibly while trying to push through the pain and get on his feet. While glaring at the floor and cursing his injury, he pulled himself up until he was vertical and supporting his weight on his left foot. He use the counter for support while hopping to the front door but when he grabbed the handle, his knee went through another crippling spasm that brought him back on the floor, yanking the door open at the same time.

While he lay near the closing door, fighting the urge to scream out, he heard Danica's voice again and relief pierced through all his frustration, struggle and agony.

* * *

Mercedes stepped out of the Best Western elevator, walking the familiar trip down the second floor's main hall. Her divorce papers were to be delivered to her any day now, the invitations to the REAL staff for the anniversary party had all been sent out, and the leads for each department had all been interviewed. She had plans of going through to read each one this evening, when she saw little Danica round the corner and run straight towards her. Her eyes widened, "Danica?" She would have been less concerned, had she seen Sam with her but he never came after her, nor did she hear anyone in the corridor. Danica came running right up to her, barefoot and clad in a pink and purple swimsuit.

"Miss Cedes! Miss Cedes! Come help—Daddy needs help!"

Mercedes' heartbeat quickened, "What happened?" Going off of Danica's garb, she immediately thought the worst—that something happened to Sam at the pool and Danica was running around the hotel on her own.

"C'mon! Daddy needs help!" repeated Danica, gripping her hand and tugging her forward.

Without hesitation, Mercedes followed her, clutching her other hand to her brief case.

"Where's your daddy at, Danica?" Mercedes asked, trying to keep calm.

"At home. He's hurt Miss Cedes!"

The two made their way around the more slender hallways until they reached Sam and Danica's hotel room. Mercedes' heart stopped when she saw Sam's foot sticking out of the door; she was ready to smother Danica into her side and urge her to look away but she heard Sam groan and immediately ran ahead of Danica to push the door open. Her eyes widened seeing him curled up in his swim trunks; she crouched down beside Sam, "Sam what happened?"

He groaned her name, but her eyes were fixed on his hands clutching at his knee. She saw the tension in his fingers and as panicked as she was for him she pulled herself together to try and help him. "Okay, Danica you wanna help Daddy?"

Danica nodded and Mercedes went on to say, "I want you to go in the bathroom and get a towel with cold water on it. Squeeze it out really good, okay?"

"Kay!" Danica said, running past Sam to do as she was told.

Mercedes slid her purse off and placed her hands firmly over Sam's, "Move your hands, Sam."

"No, really it's fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Sam," she insisted, slowly prying one of his hands away, and then the other. Immediately Sam's hands balled into fists but Mercedes wasted no time massaging her hand up and down the sides of his leg, above and below his knee, kneading it like dough.

"Do you have any medicine or something?"

Sam shook his head, "No…I can't.."

Inside she was anxious and impatient for him to finish his answer; outwardly she was trying to stay calm. "Can't take it? Can't find it?"

"Can't afford it."

At that, Mercedes stilled, but she quickly composed herself and kept at her attempts to relieve his pain. Her voice quieted when she told him, "Medical insurance is part of your employment at _REAL_, you know…"

Sam panted once, "After 90 days…I don't qualify yet."

"I'll waiver that."

Again Sam shook his head and finally opened his tightly squeezed lids, "I don't want special treatment."

Mercedes' eyes narrowed at him for a moment. With a low, fierce voice she told him, "So you're allowed to help others but they can't help you? Like it or not, you need this 'special treatment'. It's not just about you, Sam. It's about your daughter too. You didn't see the look on her face when she found me a minute ago—that girl was _terrified_ for you. She could end up traumatized if she has to keep seeing you in pain and there's nothing to help relieve it. I'm waiving your probation tomorrow so you and Dani have some medical coverage."

She didn't realize that she was glaring at Sam for his stubbornness, until she relaxed her features upon seeing Dani trot out of the bathroom with a damp face towel in her hands.

"I got a towel Miss Cedes," she announced in her young, high-pitched voice.

Mercedes smiled encouragingly to the little girl, "Thank you so much, Dani. Can I see it?" Dani came around and held the towel out to Mercedes, who placed it over Sam's knee. "You're so helpful, Dani."

"Thanks Danimal," Sam whispered, still trying to relax from the pain.

Danica nodded, "Are you okay, Daddy?"

Mercedes looked up to Sam's face and watched him smile weakly and nod, lolling his face in her direction. She smiled sadly as he raised a hand to close his fingers around Dani's and told her, "I'm okay, Dani. Just another one of Daddy's knee pains."

"Did Miss Cedes make it go away?"

Mercedes clamped her lips together, lowering her gaze to Sam's knee; she flushed when Sam told his daughter, "You and Miss Cedes made it go away. Thanks, Baby Girl."

Danica dropped to her knees and threw her arms across her daddy's chest. Sam returned the hug and repeatedly kissed her face, whispering that he loved her and he was sorry for scaring her.

"I'll be up in a minute," said Sam as he released his hold on her. "Why don't you go watch Spongebob—we'll eat dinner in a minute, okay?"

She nodded, "Kay," and kissed Sam's cheek before standing up and wandering over to Sam's bed.

"Is your knee really feeling better?" Mercedes asked.

Sam sat up, propping himself up on his elbows and nodded, giving a stern gaze at the floor. "Yeah…yeah it's going away."

Her hands stopped massaging his leg and then she twisted to her side to rifle through her purse. She pulled out her phone and moved her thumbs across the screen, making a note to talk to HR in the morning, and then dropped her phone back in her purse. She grabbed her brief case and stood up, offering to help Sam to his feet as best she could. Once he looked stable, she turned while telling him, "Enjoy your dinner."

"Wait um…d-did you wanna join us?"

Mercedes shook her head, "I've got a lot to get done tonight and I think we've had enough awkward moments this past week, so...get some ice on your knee." When she reached for the door handle, she turned back and looked at him, "Bananas."

Sam looked at her, confused at first and then nodded with a faint smile playing at his lips, "The potassium helps with cramping—yeah. You'd think I was a monkey with the way I used to eat them. I'll get some tomorrow."

"Bye, Danica," Mercedes said, smiling and waving at the little girl.

Danica slid of the edge of the bed and ran over, colliding into Mercedes' side with a hug, "Bye Miss Cedes! I love you!"

Mercedes' heart swelled; she crouched down to give Danica a tight, proper hug, "I love you too, sweetie."

Danica soon slipped away and ran back to plop down in front of the television, and Mercedes stood once more and headed out without a backwards glance. When she was close to her own room, she paused, pressed her back against a wall while looking heavenward, and let out a ragged sigh. Her steeliness from helping Sam through his episode was crumbling and the fear she'd dammed was spilling over, making her knees as shaky as her breath. There weren't words for how frightened she was, first from seeing Danica's panicked look, and then from seeing Sam's foot hanging out of the door. It looked like she was watching a horror movie or a crime show, except she was experiencing it, rather than merely watching it.

Her hand came up over her eyes as she drew in another deep, ragged breath. "Thank you, God. Thank you that he's okay…." She whispered.

The urge to cry was definitely there, but she resisted. Instead, she entered her room, abandoned her bags and decided to postpone some of her work in exchange for a very long, hot bath.

* * *

_**Please leave me reviews! Hope you enjoyed some story-telling from Sam's POV!  
Also, if the months/time has anyone thrown off, the fic started at the very end of January. Sam and Mercedes have been spending time together and getting to know each other throughout all of February, and their fight happened at the end of the month. So! We're now in March. REAL's 5**__**th**__** anniversary is in April. Hope this clears things up for anyone who might have been lost/confused!**_

_**Chapter title: "Lean on Me" by Bill Withers**_


	10. Elevators: Me & You

**(shout out to Ashley, aka nerd4music for helping me get through this chapter! Enjoy everyone!)**

**-March-**

"Another late night, Miss Cedes?"

Mercedes' gaze looked beyond her desk computer to her open door where Sam was now standing. She had a pen in her mouth but pulled it out as she stared, and then shook her head. "Yes, Mr. Evans." It had been two nights since Sam's knee episode, and yesterday she'd left the office early for dinner plans with Puck and Quinn. They talked over her pending divorce papers, the upcoming anniversary party, and a week-long vacation that Puck and Quinn were planning for themselves. Somehow, the subject of Sam had come up—at Mercedes' own accidental doing; she didn't know where they stood, but since he hadn't come to see her, she assumed he may have been upset with her for intervening with his health insurance status.

She glanced up long enough to catch his reaction to her reversion to formal names, just as he'd been doing to her for the past week, but he merely pulled his work gloves off and left them on his cleaning cart behind him. Mercedes watched him approach her for only a moment before she turned her attention back to the computer screen. "Not today, Mr. Evans. I really want to get this finished up before I go."

"This'll only take a minute. I wanted to apologize for how I acted towards you the other night and last week. And cut it out with the 'Mr. Evans' stuff."

She stubbornly kept her eyes on her computer and her voice in a brusque, professional tone, "It's fine. You didn't say anything that wasn't true and I know you meant it."

"Mercedes."

She stopped typing and then looked up at him, "What?"

For a split second she regretted tearing her gaze off her computer screen to look into those sincere, yet penetrating eyes. _Damn him_, she thought.

"I'm sorry. Really. My apology's way overdue and whether I was right or not, I shouldn't have come down on you so harshly."

She pursed her lips and swallowed before answering. "I forgive you…Sam." A strange tingle prickled down her neck when she spoke his first name but she tried to ignore it. "I meant what I just said too."

When she caught herself gazing at him for what felt like too long, she forced her eyes back to her monitor.

"And I also wanted to thank you for what you did for Dani and me last night. I know I didn't seem that grateful but…I am."

"Your welcome," she replied, glancing at him for only a moment when he stepped a bit closer, making his way around her desk. Despite the fact that he was talking to her again and it relieved her, he continued to give her an inexplicable nervous flutter in her stomach.

"What are you working on?" he asked in a low tone.

She tried hard to keep her eyes on her screen, "My note for the April issue."

"How do you and Mr. Puckerman come up with different things to say at the end of each issue?"

"Because each issue is different so we're able to reflect on them differently."

Sam stepped a bit closer to her desk, and Mercedes' heart reacted by thumping a bit faster yet outwardly she bore a cold, professional expression. She did her best to control her breathing as he leaned over to look at her screen. _Why the hell does he have to smell so good?_ She angrily wondered. He probably wouldn't smell this fresh and desirable if weren't for the fact that he always started his work at the top floor—her office.

"Excuse you."

Instantly, he smirked, "Yes?"

"Do you mind?"

"Nope."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, "Well I do."

Sam's smirk grew, "Come on. Just consider me an extra pair of eyes. Look." His hand rested over hers, over the mouse, "You made a mistake there."

She couldn't even focus on him guiding the cursor for her—her hand felt like it was on fire but in a good way. Part of her wanted to yank her hand away while the other part of her wanted to yank him into her lap and find out what those lips of his felt like on hers.

"There," he softly spoke, raising his hand away. She glanced up at him and he looked back at her in a way that made her swallow thickly.

"Th…thank you," she whispered back.

He gazed at her for a lingering moment and then murmured, "You're welcome."

_Oh my God that is a _man's_ voice_. Internally she groaned and her thoughts were unhinging further as his already close face neared hers some more. She saw his lashes lower when he glanced down at her lips, and a moment later, his pair grazed hers, sending white hot sparks through her veins. Right away, she reacted by tilting her chin up and catching his lips with hers.

They both gasped through their noses as soon as their lips pressed against one another's, but a second later they were exploring each other's bodies. Mercedes slid her hands up the front of Sam's jumpsuit to get a feel for his firm pecks while his long fingers ran up her arms but they left the satin fabric of her blouse and cupped her cheeks. She could feel the roughness against her soft skin—calloused fingers from the years of handing baseballs, mitts and bats, yet his hands were holding her face so gingerly that she was hardly bothered by the state they were in.

The wonder she'd had for weeks now about his lips was slipping away while new curiosities sprouted up in her mind. But she found herself abruptly pushing him away.

"No," she panted with a desperate need to catch her breath.

"No?" he also breathed. "Mercedes, wh—"

"I-I can't do this. I have to go," she cut across, poking a few keys on the keyboard and then rapidly logging off her desk computer. She could feel Sam's eyes on her—whether they were glaring or balking at her, she wasn't sure and refused to look up and see.

"What about your note?" he asked in a dark, challenging tone.

"I'll finish it from home."

"You mean the hotel."

Her hand paused on her purse below her desk. _Dammit, he's right_, she spat in her mind. _He'd be there too_.

"Yes, the hotel," she curtly affirmed. At least she would have some privacy in her room—a room that he _didn't_ have easy access to.

"Wait a minute," insisted Sam as she stood and hurried around him.

Mercedes shook her head, hugging her briefcase to her chest and muttering things under her breath about not doing this and maintaining professionalism.

"Don't forget to close the door when you finish," she told him, putting her CEO hat back on.

She heard Sam let out a short sigh as she walked out of the room which only confirmed for her that yes, he was mad and rightfully so. Every time they started to get close; every time she started to feel something strong towards him, she pulled away, afraid and riddled with fear and guilt for that fear. It wasn't fair to him for her to keep doing this, and she wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to her beyond more curt greetings during his work hours again.

After pushing the 'down' button on the elevator, she closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and let it out with a slight fall in her shoulders. The moment one of the two elevators dinged, she looked up and stepped to the one on the left as its doors slid open, un-attentive to the jingling noise that was approaching. She set her briefcase down so her hand was free to dig around in her purse for her cell phone, while her other hand pushed the lobby "L" button. The doors began to close but she heard a blunt slam that made her jump, gasp and look up.

"Mercedes," he spoke in a stern voice. "Why do you keep running away from me?"

Her brown orbs were wide as she watched Sam step into the elevator. Overall, he looked calm but there was obvious irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"We shouldn't do this," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because…" was all she said back.

He arched a brow, expecting her to say more but when she didn't, he sighed. "Okay if you're going to be childish—two can play at _that_ game."

Mercedes' brows furrowed when he promptly turned his back to her and knocked his fist deliberately against the red emergency 'stop' button. A long buzzing noise followed and soon the elevator came to a halt.

"What are you doing?!" Mercedes asked hotly.

Sam glanced back at her, rolled his eyes and then looked up at the speaker grill above their heads.

A voice, somewhat familiar to Mercedes came through, "This is security—is everyone alright in there?"

She opened her mouth to answer but Sam beat her to it, "Hey Joe, it's Sam. Everything's fine. I'm just running some tests. I have my key once I'm done."

"Oh, okay Sam. Thanks for the heads up!"

_Click_.

Mercedes' eyes bugged when the intercom went mute again. She watched Sam turn to face her again while patting the set of keys clipped to his hip.

"Nice," she sarcastically hissed.

He smirked humorlessly, "I thought so. Now," he stepped up to her with no qualms of invading what little personal space she had. "Are you going to tell me why you keep running from me or not?"

The answer sat on her tongue but she wouldn't let it leave her mouth; she just kept gazing at him and trying not to let herself crumble. But the intensity in Sam's green hues started to evaporate and she quickly realized what he was seeing in her brown pair.

The creases between his brows smoothed out and his clenched jaw relaxed. Everything on his face melted and his lips formed a grimace as he whispered, "He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Her lips parted with speechlessness. The 'he' that he was referring to didn't need to be spoken, and her answer was an obvious 'yes'. Without taking his eyes off her he moved an arm until his fingers were cupping her cheek and his thumb started stroking in the exact spot where her bruise once was. She didn't answer, but Sam went on anyway to ask, "Do you trust me, Mercedes?"

"I do, and that's what scares me so much...I don't want to get hurt again. I don't want to make the same mistake again."

"I understand. I just hope you'll let yourself be happy one day because right now, you're holding back and I get you protecting yourself and your feelings and all but…even if I'm not the one you end up wanting to be with sometime—and I gotta admit, I'd be bummed if that were true—"

She let herself smile at that.

"—You shouldn't let every man after him pay for what he did to you. And you deserve to know what it's like to be loved. _Really_ loved."

She wondered if he was aware of the double meaning in his words. Of course she wanted both the physical and emotional, and something made her feel like it was achievable with Sam. Each moment she spent with him, he had a way of raising her defenses, only to bulldoze them over to accept and nurture her vulnerabilities.

"Sam…you've had four years to heal and move on..." she whispered, shutting her watering eyes. "I've had…I don't even know how long." A somber chuckle escaped her lips, "It feels like it's been so much longer than a month with how long things had gone on. Even now, I'm not even completely free of him yet."

"But you want to be," he asked. "I'm not trying to put words in your mouth. I just want to know."

Her eyes opened again to stare in his. "I do. Of course I do—the day you and I fought, I met with a divorce attorney to get the papers drawn up and I'm waiting to get them. Shane knows now and according to my attorney, he's furious with me, but we haven't spoken. Frankly I don't know why he's surprised; he didn't wonder where the hell the rest of my stuff went?" Her head shook and she gave a digressive sigh. "I just…" She shut her eyes once more for a slow blink and bit her bottom lip, "I spent a lot of time thinking about what you said to me about telling my experience to my readers and all and I..."

He dipped his head so that their foreheads rested against each other, making Mercedes immediately flush.

"I'm tired, Sam," she whispered, letting thin tears streak down her face. "I've been tired for a long time. Tired of feeling like I had to be…this lie to my company while I went home and put up with these beatings from Shane."

He lightly shook his head against hers and murmured, "You weren't a lie, Mercedes. You are a strong, intelligent woman and you go for what you want. It's time for you to just find a way to let things go—whether that's through an article in your magazine or sessions with a quack."

Mercedes bowed her head, smiled weakly and shut her eyes again.

"Okay, a therapist or psychologist. Whichever one but I'm serious. I hope you'll do whatever it is that you need to do so you can have _every_thing you want."

She hesitated only for a second and then asked, "Even if that's you?"

Her eyes opened to find Sam already staring into her pair. Terrified as she was to give in, she admitted to him, "You and Dani have been two of the brightest spots in all of this. I really just…don't know where I'd be right now without you."

"Well…without me, you probably wouldn't be stuck in this elevator," he teased.

"Tsh," she grinned softly, "Yeah no kidding."

Sam's gaze intensified a bit and his voice dropped to just above a whisper, "If you want Dani and I in your life…if you want me, Mercedes, we're here…and I'm yours."

This time, with their faces close enough to touch, Sam closed the space, fervently taking hold of her lips with his. Her back arched away from the cold steel elevator wall but Sam pressed his body to her, forcing her back to the wall again. A moment later, her purse slid from her shoulder and fell to the floor with her briefcase. Her head tilted while her arms came around Sam's neck; she groaned softly at the feeling of his large hands roaming her curves, handling her with care and curiosity.

The passion between their lips quickly grew, and with that came two sets of hands, eager for skin. Mercedes pulled apart the snap buttons down the front of Sam's greyish blue jumpsuit, causing them to fall past his waist and hit the floor with a jangling thud. Meanwhile he slipped his hands inside her open black blazer and guided it off her shoulders; beneath, she had on a champagne satin blouse and a black high waist pencil skirt with a thick belt.

Sam chuckled against her lips and she pulled away enough to mutter, "What?"

Grinning, he mumbled back, "You've got a lot of layers."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and gave up on his jumpsuit to help him. Expertly, her hand descended down the front of her blouse, un-doing each button along the way, and a moment later she was undoing her belt and pulling down the zipper to her skirt.

"There. Happy?"

"Almost," he replied with a smug tone and a shrug of his shoulders. His lips parted completely from hers and he started pulling up his wife beater but her hands were anxious to help, so he let her.

_Holy damn, Lord forgive me_, she thought at the sight of his glorious, flat abs. He wasn't overly rip, but the sight he had to offer made her mouth water a little bit. Finally able to do what she'd been longing to do, Mercedes smoothed her fingers across both his biceps and to her delight, they felt firmer than they looked.

Sam toed his work shoes off, and then stepped out of his jumpsuit to kick it away, leaving him and Mercedes in only their underwear. She watched his eyes look her over but the self-consciousness started to inch its way to the front of her mind.

Sam must have caught it when his eyes finished appreciating the way her bra tended to her voluptuous chest. He leaned in until his lips were at her ear and murmured with perfect clarity and certainty, "You're so beautiful." Then, out of sheer carelessness, he tore the material at her either side of her hips, triggering another gasp from Mercedes.

"Dammit," she spat, looking down between them at the delicate, black satin rag that now sat between her feet.

"What?" asked Sam, looking down also. "That wasn't your only pair of underwear or something, was it?"

Mercedes put her finger under his chin to force him to look at the un-amused look that briefly graced her face.

"I really liked those," she muttered darkly, to which he promptly replied:

"I think I improved them."

She rolled her eyes and giggled but her light laughs were lost once his lips found hers again. He pressed himself close to her so she could feel the stiff bulge below his waist, and as she tugged down on the elastic waist, her knuckles brushed across his erect shaft, only sheathed by his thin cotton boxers. Soon, Sam's hand came over hers to move it out of the way so he could pull them off.

Sam continued surprising the hell out of her; while his lips trailed down her throat and neck, his hands roamed to the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up against the wall. Mercedes squealed and instinctively clung her legs around his back but she urgently muttered, "Put me down, Sam! Your knee!"

"Is fine," he growled, pressing her harder against the steel.

In the midst of protesting again, Mercedes' words were lost by a moan from his sudden entry. Her mouth gaped, and she was desperate for something above her head to cling to for the initial pain but the pleasure quickly followed and she was able to settle for gripping rail that lined the walls. As his hands squeezed her thighs, he started thrusting up into her.

Her back pressed rhythmically harder and lighter against the cold steel; her eyes rolled shut at the sound of Sam groan throatily into her chest. With each thrust, the bun she'd worn her hair in was gradually coming undone until her shiny raven-hued hair spilled messily over her shoulders. His lips caressed her breasts while his hips worked between her thighs. Mercedes' grip on the rail tightened as she loudly moaned his name.

She heard Sam give a husky chuckle, causing her to look down at him and pant, "What?"

In a breathy tone he replied, "You're a screamer."

Mercedes' lips strained to smile as she told him, "Shut up."

Again, Sam gave a husky chuckle and when his lips found hers again, his knees bent to hastily set her down while her pulled out, long enough to get her on the floor. Mercedes' felt the fabrics of their clothes against her back but before she could pull them out from under her, Sam was pressed against her, kissing her lips while his juiced member thrust into her again. One of Mercedes' hands came up to tug on his semi-lengthy blond crop while her other set of fingers curled into a cottony material nearby.

"Is that good?" he asked gruffly.

Again Mercedes moaned while the foreign tightness started in the pit of her stomach. "Yes, Sam…" she breathed in a strangled voice, moving her hands over his firm ass.

Something told her he was going to cum soon, and he did, but she enjoyed every single second leading up to it. His rough pace slowed and when he pulled out of her again, his muscular arms supported the majority of his weight while he hovered over her. Mercedes lips cast a blissful smile up at him and when he lowered his face close enough, she tilted her chin up and left a lingering kiss on his lips, followed by a couple of tender pecks before he lowered his head to nuzzle against the groove of her neck.

Sam shifted so that he could lie next to her, but his head remained nestled against her skin. "That was…"

"I can't believe we did that," she said with a grin. Reckless hadn't been in her vocabulary for ages, but it seemed like Sam was going to redefine her, and that thought excited and terrified her.

Sam raised a hand slightly, trailing a lone fingertip along the length of her bare arm. "Do you regret it?" he asked, raising his head so that his green eyes could look at her again.

She turned her head in his direction, searching in his eyes and then softly smiled again with a few slow shakes of her head, "No."

He smiled back at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Mercedes lightly pushed against his chest to get his attention, however.

"If you're planning to make me a hit it and quit it woman though…"

"Mercedes, really?" he asked in a completely flat, incredulous tone.

Her brow arched but her lips were curved in a half smile through her resolute tone, "I don't think of you like that. I really don't, but I'm just saying…if you do—I don't care how good you just were, I will break your shit off and sell it on the black market, Sam Evans."

Both his brows rose to his hair line but he matched her half smile and raised a hand to salute her, "Yes ma'am."

Mercedes smiled full at him and reached up to stroke a finger across his large bottom lip. "I don't want you to think I'm like that either. I mean…that wasn't meaningless to me and—"

Sam placed an index finger over her heart-shaped lips and the moment after she stopped talking, he told her, "It was spontaneous. You don't have to explain to me. I mean, I was here too, remember?"

Her lips curled beneath his finger and for a long second she shut her eyes. Men like Sam Evans were rare—very rare. She had no idea how she'd been blessed with him entering her life but she hoped it was a time to last a long while.

* * *

She was beyond amazing. It wasn't news to him how breathtaking he thought she looked, dressed or carried herself. It wasn't news to him how admirably she ran her business or fought to be brave in spite of her unhealthy. It wasn't news to him how wonderfully she treated his daughter and came to at least somewhat care about him. But the physical wonder—the taste of lip gloss on her pillow soft lips; the feeling of her flawless brown skin under his calloused tan hands, and the rightness of being inside of her. Discovering _that _was marvelous.

And as he lay beside her on the elevator floor, drinking up all her beauty with his eyes, he found himself wishing that he could stay close to her. When he opened his mouth to ask her about possibly meeting later, before he'd have to relieve Finn of babysitting, the elevator intercom cut in.

"Sam, are you still in there?"

Sam and Mercedes both jolted upright; Mercedes gasped, snatching her blouse from beneath her as though they'd just been caught, and the two began to quickly get dressed.

"Uhhh, yeah—yeah I'm still here Joe. Just finishing up."

"Okay, 'cause one of the other janitors, Susie, is looking for you and needs your help on the fourth floor."

While hastily yanking his boxers up his legs he replied, "Alright, tell her I'll be there in 10."

"Will do!"

_Click_.

"Damn." He looked sheepishly to Mercedes and smiled when she started giggling.

"God we're lucky he hasn't tried operating this thing from the outside."

Sam chuckled once, "Yeah 'cause I'm pretty sure HR would fire me."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

He clamped his lips together, pausing only for a moment from his rushed re-assembly of his clothes. His eyes lingered on her face thoughtfully, and when he finally looked away from her, he bent down and picked up her blazer for her while she hooked her belt around her middle.

She buttoned up her blouse and then graciously accepted it.

"Can I meet you later?"

Mercedes tucked her lips inside her mouth which made him want to provoke them back out with his own lips, but he was attentive to her answer, "What about Danica?"

"Before I let Finn off the hook for the night…just for a little bit."

She accepted the blazer and threaded her hands through, allowing Sam's hands to be free to snap his jumpsuit together again. His eyes stayed on her for the duration, and when they both looked decent again, he turned his back to her long enough to insert the key and get the elevator going again. The entire lift gave one downward lurch and then continued on its usual, steady descent.

Finally, Mercedes gave him one nod, drawing her hair back from her face. "For a little bit."

He stepped up to her with one slight limp, smiled and tucked an independent strand behind her ear. "Thank you."

As the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, Sam stepped aside, giving her a knowing smile while she sauntered out. He unabashedly stared at her skirted backside until the doors closed on him. After pushing the "4" button, he let his head fall back against the steely wall and let out a soft sigh, reliving all that just happened in the elevator with a smirk on his face.

When the doors opened again he stepped out and went to find Susie, helped her with plumbing issue in the bathrooms and then returned to the top floor where his cart was. Upon reaching for the pocket on his cart where his iPod and phone were, he saw his phone screen already lit up and the device was buzzing.

Sam's brows furrowed at the name that flashed on the screen, but rather than ignore the call, he picked up his phone and answered in a stale tone, "Hello?"

"Um…Sam Evans?"

"Yep."

"Hi. It's Dave…Karofsky?"

"Yeah, I know. Hi."

"How are you, man?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Just peachy."

There was a pause and then he sighed, "I'm sure you weren't expecting to hear from me…"

"After all these years of not hearing from you or getting a returned call? Nope, can't say that I was."

"Please, just hear me out, Sam. What I've got to say is important and does affect you. I'm just sorry I didn't tell you this sooner."

The blissful, buoyant feeling was gone; like someone dropped an Acme weight right on his tightly inflated balloon. Whatever Dave Karofsky had to tell him, he doubted it was any good, especially since he was starting out with an apology.

"I'm listening." Limping his way to one of Mercedes' office lounge chairs, Sam took a seat and clenched his jaw for a moment, trying to brace himself for something—he didn't know what yet but he was about to find out.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! And no, I don't know if a janitor at a building like this would have the keys to the elevators but I had this irking feeling that someone was going to make a comment about it in their review. So I'll just say right now that no, I don't know and if it isn't common/realistic, I don't care. I needed Sam to be the one to stop Mercedes from constantly running from him. Anyway, I digress on elevator technicalities. What did you think of this chapter? The one-on-one time between Sam and Mercedes? This random call from Dave Karofsky? What do you suppose is his relation/connection to Sam? Let me know! More is coming. :)**_

_**Chapter title: "Elevators (Me & You)" by OutKast**_


	11. Know Your Enemy

**-March-**

Mercedes sat on her bed in the hotel, fresh from the shower. She was riding on the tail end of the fresh euphoria instilled in her only a couple hours earlier, and had finally settled down from her high enough to finish up her note for the April issue of _REAL_. There were plenty of moments where she was happy that Sam accepted her but she couldn't help the self-sabotage that poked at her thoughts. On top of the fact that they hadn't used protection, she kept thinking about the fact that Sam never really said he wanted her too. It was implied, certainly but she really hoped she would hear it from him tonight when he came by. While she started to proof-read the note, she received a call from Tina.

"Hey Tina. We're still going dress shopping for the party this weeke—"

"Mercedes, where've you been? I've been trying to reach you for the past few hours! There's a problem!"

Her brows furrowed and when she pulled the phone away from her ear, she noticed that she did, in fact have several missed calls and a couple of voicemails from Tina.

"Sorry," she finally said, "I…got caught up at the office and hadn't taken my phone off silent since I got back at the hotel. What happened?" Right away, she gasped and asked, "Is it Jackson?"

"No, Jackson's fine."

"Is it Mike?"

"It's not Mike! Listen, one of the accountants called me on my cell when I left the office. You didn't wanna be disturbed all afternoon so they thought it was best to call me…anyway, they said a large sum of _REAL_'s profits have gone missing."

Mercedes' tone immediately changed with the shift in her mood, "How much?"

Tina hesitated for a moment but quietly answered, "Around $250,000."

"What?! How in the hell does a quarter million dollars go missing!?"

She heard Tina take a deep breath and add, "There's more…"

"Great. Let me guess…"

Tina's words sounded distant, yet clear as she gravely replied, "The unaccounted funds are being linked back to you, Mercedes."

Mercedes' froze but shock and outrage immediately shattered through. It hadn't been anything close to the sarcastic guess she was going to pitch to Tina. "They think I'm embezzling from my own company?!"

"Yes…t-there's all these records showing large withdrawals from the company's profits and they're all under your name but the use for them isn't documented."

After a long, long blink, Mercedes opened her eyes, letting the outrage snuff the shock. "I'm not embezzling from REAL—Tina you know how much this company means to me!"

"I know, Mercedes, I know. That's why I've been calling you so much—I didn't think you knew about it already but you needed to know. What are you going to do?"

"I need to call Sebastian…I…I don't know what else to do. I don't have the money, Tina so I need to try and figure out who'd be using my name to take my mo—"

Her sentence cut off while the realization slapped her across the face. Nothing ironic about _that_.

"Mercedes?" Tina spoke up, panicked still.

"I'm here. But I'll call you later. Or tomorrow, Tina. I need to call Sebastian, now."

"But Mercedes, who do you think—"

"Tina who else might possibly get away with using _my _name to access the funds to my business?"

Tina went quiet but only a second later did she gasp into the phone, "Shane?"

"Yep. I gotta go Tina."

"Okay, okay," Tina hastily replied. "Call me b—oh crap, Jackson's crying."

"It's fine, go be with him. I'll call you after I figure this out."

They ended their call and after one long, loud angry groan, Mercedes went to call Sebastian but to her surprise, he'd beat her to it in the midst of her searching her contacts for his number.

"Mercedes, I'm sorry to call so late but I might have a lead on who's coming after _REAL_, and Lauren and I are meeting this weekend to coordinate for your div—"

"Sebastian hold up. I know who's coming after _REAL_…or at least I have a really, really strong hunch and you're not gonna believe it."

"If you say Shane Tinsley, then consider me a believer."

Her eyes bulged, "How'd you know already?"

"I told you I had a lead, didn't I?"

At his witty reply she rolled her eyes but listened on. "I got in touch with some old colleagues from law school to see if they were advising any of their clients through large stock purchases recently. Some of them weren't so forthcoming to talk to me—attorney-client confidentiality and all, but others…well loose lips sink ships after all. Long story, short I got led from person to person until my trail of calls ended with one attorney who used to intern aspiring sports agents and attorneys. Dave Karofsky…"

* * *

Sam was repeatedly flexing and relaxing his fist against the armrest of the lounge chair. He knew he'd be risking getting in trouble for talking on his cell phone while on the clock but—christening the elevator while on the clock was plenty daring, so he decided to push his luck and let Karofsky talk.

"I got a call last week from a former intern of mine. He's an attorney now but he called me looking for advice."

"That's nice," Sam interjected curtly," does this story have a point?"

"Yes," Dave replied professionally. "I never told you this before and it's the reason I'm apologizing to you now, but that intern…he's really the reason you hadn't received compensation for your injury—not me. I do take partial blame, Sam. I was trying to teach him and at the time, he was learning to make decisions on cases. I only stood as a figurehead in the courtrooms because he wasn't officially allowed to represent anyone at the time. But I let him call the shots while I presented his cases in the courtroom. With your case…I didn't agree with his decision and he knew that, but it didn't change the outcome which was...I went ahead with his case."

All of the flexing and relaxing ceased; Sam's fists were both tight around his phone and sitting firmly on the armrest but he couldn't keep still, so he moved to rubbing his knee, harshly. He wanted to reach through the phone and close one of those fists around Karofsky's windpipe but instead he tried for fishing a name out of his former attorney.

"What's this guy doing now?"

"Well, I told you—he's an attorney like me. New, sort of still getting his feet wet and all with only a few years under his belt. But he's closing in on a huge investment that I know is going to cost him a fortune so I'm sure his firm's doing great. He told me he's buying up a bunch of shares in this local magazine company. _REAL_ or something?"

Sam's entire frame went rigid. He wanted to ask Dave questions to get absolute, undisputable clarity but Dave went on in his speech, giving Sam plenty of reason to listen sharply.

"You know…When I looked into that magazine company to try and find out why he's trying to screw them over, I was pretty shocked to find out that the CEO's his own wife. Guess there's trouble in paradise, huh?"

"You could say that," Sam mumbled viciously while trying to rub the angry throbbing from his temples with his free hand. "Why are you telling me all this, Karofsky?"

Dave's strong tone wavered, "Well…through a little more digging, I found out that you're employed there and…I figured the least I could do was give you a heads up to maybe make up for what happened after your injury. If my old intern pulls off this stunt and gets a hold of those shares, the company's gonna go under according to him. I figure I could let you know now so you could try and look for some new employment."

Before Karofsky had finished explaining, Sam was seeing red; not only was his former attorney trying to kill his own guilt by doing Sam a "favor", but Mercedes' ex-husband was the one who had her ready to pull her weave out over this share-buying problem. Had Mercedes and her husband been carrying on a happy, healthy marriage, Sam wouldn't have blinked an eye over Shane's interest in his wife's company. But Sam knew better; he knew of Shane's abusive, belittling ways and that he and Mercedes were in the process of divorcing. It didn't take much for Sam to put the pieces together but one more question did manage to escape him, despite his white hot fury he was currently harboring, but he didn't want to let Dave know how much he already knew about Mercedes' ex-husband.

"Why would this guy want to buy out the shares, just to turn around and destroy the company?"

Sam could almost see Karofsky shrug, "Feeding the market? I don't think the destruction would happen instantaneously but I don't know the details so maybe I'm wrong. He could have people's positions shuffled around within the company, or sell portions of the business to others without telling them his plan to drive it in the ground while making himself more money. I really don't know but what I do know is…he's pretty ruthless. Anyway, I need to get going. I just wanted you to know. And to apologize for not coming clean about your trial sooner."

"I know I should thank you but I can't. If you think this makes up for what you let happen four years ago, it doesn't."

"Well wha—"

"I don't want anything else from you," he spat but quickly re-thought the harsh words that shot off his tongue. "Except…for one thing."

Dave paused with hesitance and then asked, "What is it?"

"When this all comes to a head, and you know it will, you're gonna have to testify against your old intern. If you really want to make things right with me and really kill your guilt—because I know that's what the hell your call was really about—then you'll testify in court when this all blows up in your old intern's face."

"You don't know that it won't…unless you're going to tell the CEO yourself."

Sam opened his mouth and started to say, "You're damn right I'm telling her," but his wit was about him again, allowing him to leave it at, "She's not going to give up her company without a fight—purchased shares or not."

"If he gets those shares, she wouldn't have a choice."

"She's not going to lose her company to that dipshit!" Sam retorted furiously. And without giving Dave a chance to retort or throw around legal terms and technicalities, he hung up and squeezed his phone even tighter.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his phone and turn Mercedes' office upside down like the Tasmanian Devil, but a small but powerful part of him kept him in check.

"I need to get to Mercedes. She needs to know," he mumbled harshly to himself, crossing the room as quickly as his stiff leg would allow. He'd make up some illness to get out of the rest of his shift and head back to the hotel as fast as his screechmobile would allow. He couldn't figure out what was fueling his anger the most—the swiftness of how the evening changed from a delicious gambol in the elevator with the woman he was falling for, to the mere sight of Dave Karofsky's name appearing on the caller ID? Or was it the fact that Karofsky's call was downright selfish, regardless of the spin he tried putting on it? Or that Mercedes' own heartless bastard of an ex was trying to fuck her over, after having also been responsible for fucking him over years ago? All of the truths were mouthing to a heap of emotions Sam hadn't experienced since the day his trial had ended…

_He'd been in his old apartment, ridding himself of the business suit he'd worn for the trial. Finn just left from watching over Danica while the trial had gone under way, leaving Sam alone with his weeks-old daughter. The judge's decision not to grant him compensation devastated him more than he thought it would; in fact, he had been certain that he was going to receive the compensation and then __he would have some sort of aid for a little while with raising his daughter._

_But that wasn't what happened. His sureness had been crushed to rubble when he heard Dave Karofsky rise from the seat beside him and apologize to the judge for a slapdash decision to motion for the compensation in the first place. Reparations for an athlete who would clearly never play again was an unfair expectation of the minor league. _

_The judge seemed genuinely surprised by Dave's lack of advocacy for his own client but the fact that it was all that was now being presented as it was, and that Sam was in too much shock to interrupt, led to a dismissal of the case—resulting in Sam walking away with nothing. He couldn't see anyone or anything as he walked out of the courthouse. He didn't see any of the sparse individuals who were sitting in on the trial—one of them had been the burly, remorseless Shane Tinsley._

_The anger consumed Sam to the point where he was hardly seeing straight. He pulled his tie off with one hand while his other hand was supporting his weight on a cane, and then sat down, yanking article after article off as his attorney's traitorous words, and the judge's grave but resolute decision. _

"_Couldn't even look me in the fucking eye…" Sam mumbled, rocking back and forth with his hands pulling on the hair at either side of his head. He didn't know what to do with himself to let the anger go and it made him restless. He balled his fists up over his temples, only to drop them and bend forward, pulling his shoes roughly off his feet, repeating again, "Couldn't even look me in the fucking eye!"_

_His eyes stung with livid tears as the realization sunk further and further in his mind, winding him up until he snapped, staggering to his feet to pitch his shoe, hard across the room. The instant it left his hand he regretted it. The shoe slammed in to the barred front of Danica's crib, causing Sam's eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets. A second later, Danica had woken up from her nap, startled and filled the apartment with short, loud terrified cries._

_The thick wall of anger building up inside Sam was effortlessly shattered by his daughter's cries. In its place, came the most difficult form of sorrow and guilt to console. He started towards the crib but the infantile pain in his knee retarded him, only adding to his pre-existing frustration and guilt. Eventually he made it to the crib and looked down at Danica's crying face. Her innocence and undeserved sadness broke Sam's heart. He reached inside without further hesitation and lifted her out, immediately covering her face with very gentle kisses. "It's okay, Danica…it's okay…Daddy's an idiot…shhh…sh-shh…"_

_His wife had been buried for only a few weeks. The only family he knew was halfway across the country. His career was over, and the last bit of hope for some financial security was gone. There wasn't anything holding him together anymore, except for the helpless life fussing in his arms._

"_I'm sorry, Danica," he sobbed hysterically, cradling her tiny form to his chest. "…I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'm doing…I don't know what I'm going to do. _

_As he lamented to her, he slowly and painfully limped his way to the nearest seat while trying not to smother her too much. "I wish your mom was here. You deserve her here…not me. I'm so sorry for scaring you…I'm so sorry…"_

_He removed one hand from around her, long enough to wipe the tears and snot from his face, only to bend his head over his daughter and cry some more._

"_I d-don't know what to do, Danica. I…I can't do this alone….Y-you deserve…s-so much more. I'm sorry…I'm s-sorry…"_

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! As promised, a lot of revelations were coming very soon. Did I deliver? What did you think? Sorry to those who suspected Mercedes' parents or Sam to be the anonymous sharks! More is coming soon!**_

_**Chapter title: "Know Your Enemy" by Green Day**_


	12. Face Down

**-March-**

Mercedes had wrapped up her call with Sebastian and by the time she'd finished, she was mulling over a plan in her mind—turning over pros and cons and the brilliance or lack thereof with said plan. It took her a long time to decide not to call Puck; he was going to hate her for it but she needed to involve as few people, tired closely to _REAL_ as possible, for fear of implicating them later down the road at a trial. She didn't know what explanation she was going to offer Sam but she'd hoped he would understand. As she slipped her purse on her shoulder, three solid knocks pounded on her door.

Her heart stopped at the thought of who It might be. She couldn't help thinking that maybe Shane had finally found where she was. She tried to dilute her fear by thinking aloud, "Maybe Tina told Puck and he's here checking on me…yeah, that's it."

When she reached the door she remembered to check the peephole and was shocked to find Sam standing on the other side in his grey-blue jumpsuit, looking deeply upset.

"Sam? What are you doing here already? It's barely midnight—what's wrong?" she asked, pulling back her coat sleeve to look at her watch.

"I would've gotten here sooner but when I tried to convince Joe I was sick, he didn't buy it. I tried to tell him there was an emergency and he still didn't wanna let me leave. Listen, Mercedes I have to tell you something."

She shook her head, "Whatever it is, you shouldn't have left your shift early for it. And Sam I have to g—"

"I know who's trying to buy your shares though!" he cut across, looking and sounding upset and desperate at the same time.

Mercedes blinked twice, rapidly and shot him a wide-eyed stare, "You do?"

"Yes! I found out about not long after you left and tried to get here as fast as I could. I don't know if you'd wanna believe me or not but it's your husband, Mercedes. He's a snake bastard and he's triying to screw you over—I know it!"

"I know…"

"And I know you're gonna wonder how I found out and it's a long story but I—wait…you know? What do you mean you know?" Sam wondered, sounding a fraction more furious than before.

Mercedes' brows furrowed, "Long story but I know. I just found out tonight too. How do_ you_ know though?"

"Your husband used to intern for my old sports attorney."

"Your old sports attorney's Dave Karofsky?"

"Ah, so you've heard of him," Sam sarcastically replied.

"Yeah he's the reason I found out anything about what Shane was up to in the first place. Sam, I'll tell you more about this later but for now I have to go."

"Go where?" demanded Sam—the frustration still heavy in his voice.

"Back to the penthouse."

"_What?_ Are you nuts—Mercedes, why?!"

She strained to keep her voice down, "I need to get proof! It's the only thing that'd help Sebastian with this case he's been building—like the giant piece to the puzzle and if I don't get some sort of hard proof that Shane's the one who's been trying to screw me over, then he just might get away with it before we can stop him."

With one sharp nod, Sam told her, "I'm coming with you."

"No, Sam."

"Yes, Mercedes," he argued, mocking her tone.

She folded her arms across her chest and asked, "What about Dani? You can't just leave her alone."

"Of course not. Finn will watch her."

Her brows shot up, "Finn? Sam come on, you're not gonna call Finn and make him drive all the way back here this late just so you can ride over with me."

Sam sighed, "Okay first of all you're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you go near that bastard alone. And second, I wouldn't be asking Finn to go very far since he's still here at the hotel."

At that, Mercedes' brows immediately dropped low over her eyes, "He is?"

"Yeah. Rachel's working graveyard so Finn's probably planning to stay the night at the hotel anyways. And besides, he's still with her now. I haven't gone to my room yet; I came straight here to tell you."

Without further reason not to yield to his persistence, Mercedes told him, "Fine." In truth, she was a little relieved that Sam was going with her. For one, if Shane didn't catch her and Puck found out she'd gone alone, he would surely murder her or disown her as his best friend. And two, whether she wanted to admit it to herself for not, she was a little afraid to be returning to the apartment.

Closing the room door behind her, Mercedes walked with Sam to the elevator and out of the lobby—grateful that Rachel was momentarily away from the front desk.

During the drive, for a moment, Mercedes wondered what would happen were Shane to catch her; technically she wouldn't be trespassing or intruding since it was technically still her penthouse as well, but she didn't know what she was going to do if the evidence she needed wasn't there. There wasn't a chance in hell for her sneaking into his law firm without legally jeopardizing herself. And then there was Shane's mistress. She shook her head once at the thought of the pink thong again; whoever Shane fucked now was no longer her problem, nor was she allowing herself to bothered by it any longer—especially now that she had gone and done the same thing—but she didn't know who this girl was from a hole in the wall, however, she hoped she wouldn't be at the penthouse tonight. Or maybe this girl should be there to see what she's really getting herself into, beyond sleeping with a lawyer.

"Hey," mumbled Sam, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She took her eyes off of the road long enough to see his green eyes staring at her intently.

"Are you okay? What's going on up there?"

Contrary to the tight, visibly tense look on his face, the touch of his fingertips against her temple was careful and gentle.

Mercedes shook her head while letting out a sigh, "Just thinking about what I might walk into. I didn't get a chance to tell you before but…I've gone back to the apartment before."

Sam's brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a grimace. "When?"

"The day you and I got into an argument. I went o my lunch break with Puck to get the rest of my things. Found out Shane had been sleeping with someone." The car went deafly silent and when Mercedes looked to Sam again, he was staring out of the front windshield. She took one hand off of the steering wheel to place it over his and then shrugged, "It hurt for a second—that he couldn't wait until we were officially done. And it kind of hurt to know that he really didn't give two squirts of duck shit about me but..then it didn't hurt because those were things I already knew about him. I knew that the first time he put his hands on me but back then I was in denial over it. But somewhere down the road, I stopped denying it, and letting go of that denial helped me make my own disconnect with my feelings towards him."

She felt Sam slip his calloused fingers between hers and give her hand a firm yet gentle squeeze.

"Besides," Mercedes added with a smirk playing at her lips, "After what we did earlier, I'd kind of be a hypocrite if I went all Jerry Springer on him for cheating."

"Yeah but you…" his sentence trailed to silence at the sight of Mercedes shaking her head.

"Don't…you don't have to defend or make excuses. I told you before that I don't regret what we did, but I also have to call a duck a duck."

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled once.

"What?" she asked.

"You have a thing for ducks tonight?"

It took her only a second to realize why he'd said that before she faintly smiled and chuckled as well. "I guess I do."

The rest of the car ride—which wasn't much—was quiet between them. When Mercedes found her old spot vacant, she parked and cut off the engine. Sam started to take his seatbelt off, but Mercedes placed both of her hands over his, firmly.

"Give me a minute to do this alone. Really, if I don't come back down in…two minutes, then come up after me but…if you come up with me and Shane does catch us both—"

"He can think I'm your bodyguard or something," finished Sam, hastily.

Mercedes shook her head, "He's seen you before, remember?"

Sam shook his head back, "No he's bumped into me before. And I doubt he remembers fucking me over four years ago. I sure as hell didn't remember him being at my trial 'til Karofsky mentioned it earlier."

"Still, Sam I don't wanna take any more chances than I'm already taking. I know it seems stupid—"

"It_ is_ stupid," he corrected angrily.

"But you've got to trust me. I know my way around the apartment and if what I need is in the office then it won't take me long to find. _Pleease_ just let me do this. And if you go up there and something happens…you need to think of Dani, Sam. Don't put yourself ina situation where you could lose her. _Please_."

She felt Sam slowly ball his hands into two tight fists beneath her hands—his silent indication to her that he wasn't happy about this but he closed his eyes, bowed his head slightly and uttered through ground teeth, "Two minutes, Mercedes."

* * *

To her surprise, Shane hadn't changed the locks yet. She entered the penthouse and immediately took off her flats to pad across the floors quietly. When she looked around, there was no evidence that Shane's mistress had become a permanent resident. She passed his office and braved a quick peek in the slightly ajar bedroom door to see Shane's large, snoring mound on his usual half of the bed—the other half was empty. Upon returning to the closed office door, she listened. Shane was still snoring away with loud, even breaths. No way on Earth was what she was doing illegal, given that this was still technically her penthouse too, but she felt like the biggest intruder. Her fingers were trembling over the handle and she gripped it tight to keep from fueling her own nervousness.

She wandered into his office, hearing her heart pound in her ears. After tugging her coat closer to her body, she slowly pulled open the top desk drawer and grabbed a thick manila folder. With her eyes having adjusted to the dark by now, she used the moon's light to read the top of the stack she'd extracted from the folder. After skimming the page and a few others, she found herself wanting to incinerate everything she was reading with her narrowed eyes. Without a doubt, Shane was the one who not only was helping himself to some of _REAL_'s money by the means of using her name and their marital status, but she also held documents that proved Shane to be using them to buy out the majority of her shares—her anonymous shark.

"The hell do you think you're doing in here?"

Mercedes half jumped out of her skin, snapping her head up at the door. Shane's burly silhouette stood in the doorway, and even in the dark she could tell that he was livid.

"I asked you a question!" he barked, making her jump again.

"I—…Shane you…y-you're the one that's trying to buy out my shareholders?"

He closed the space between them with a firm grip, snatching her wrist away from the folder.

"Yeah, I am," he admitted with a dark glare.

"Why?" her voice quavered, despite herself. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because!" He shook her violently by the wrist while coughing a husky, maniacal laugh, "You just think life's supposed to sail on through the sky for you, don't you?" Mercedes didn't answer and he barked again, "DON'T YOU?! Well I'm about to knock you back to Earth, Mercedes."

Shane's red hot fury was about to lay into her again but she was spared by three loud pounds on the front door. She watched him whip his head towards the door and then he shoved her hard into his desk before lumbering down the hall, mumbling about his unknown visitor.

The shove threw her off balance and she stumbled against the nearby chair, missed the seat and unintentionally sat hard on the floor with her head bumping against the desk. Clutching at her coat, Mercedes quickly scrambled to her feet, grabbed the papers and discreetly slipped them inside her purse while she followed after him, rubbing the side of her head. Her heart hammered inside her chest as she watched from a short distance while Shane turned back the lock and swung the front door open.

"Who the f—"

The rest of his harsh inquiry was lost as Sam's right fist sprang fast and hard, connecting directly into the middle of his face with an audible, sickening crunch, knocking Shane flat on his back.

"You son-of-a-_bitch_!" hissed an incensed Sam.

Mercedes eyes nearly popped out of their sockets while her hands flew up over her mouth, watching Sam's hand coil back toward his body. She looked down at Shane, but quickly looked back to Sam.

"Guess I'm not too injured to kick your ass, am I? _GET UP_!" roared Sam with a murderous gaze. Unfortunately for him, Shane hadn't complied yet. His massive form groaning on the floor, making a slow recovery from the hard, shocking blow delivered to his face.

"You were supposed to be helping on my case," yelled Sam, standing dangerously close over Shane, "but you fucking wanted to get out of my case so you could jump on the Fastrak with your bullshit career, you asshole!"

Mercedes watched in horror, seeing Sam shake with rage. He was usually so calm, playful and collected. This was a side of him she prayed would never be provoked again. The tense air between them on the drive over only worsened when she insisted on coming up alone to find the documents. Now it seemed like some invisible force was the only thing keeping Sam from pouncing on Shane's fallen form to beat his face in further because he certainly looked ready and willing. Her alarm and pulse shot up though, when Shane finally staggered to his feet; despite Sam's beefy arms and impressive blow to the face, Mercedes felt sure Shane would flatten him in a second, given the chance.

"I'll take your ass to court for coming here and punching me, motherfucker!"

"Yeah? Go ahead! I'd be glad to countersue you for screwing me out of my compensation case. _Please_! Pull that trigger—I'd _love_ for you to!" drawled Sam with the most obvious coaxing tone.

Sam looked ready and willing to try and take on Shane; Mercedes could see that and all she could think about were Dani and his knee. "Sam…"

"Stay out of this, bitch," growled Shane.

"You go to hell!" she spat back.

The entire room fell silent, accompanied only by the thick tension swirling about the three of them. For a split second, Mercedes wished she could take back her retort but it was already out there and there was no taking it back.

"What'd you say to me?" asked Shane, turning his glaring eyes at her.

She stepped back but tried to keep her words steely, "I said….go to hell…"

She wasn't sure how or when was the exactly moment in time that it happened, but something inside of her clicked; it may have been Sam's presence—an outsider's presence to act as a witness in case things escalated, or it may have been the sole fact that she was through being stepped on but a piece of her strength returned to her.

"You swindled Sam out of his money…" she whispered, appalled and enraged. It was hard for her to feel as intimidated by him as she normally did, given the bloodied mess that Sam created on his face. All she could do was look at him with absolute disgust. "Did you do that to him, just like how you've been trying to screw me over?"

As she slowly skirted away from him some more, her hand left her side to touch over the top of the folder sticking out of her purse. "You know I've put up with…a lot of things from you, Shane. I let you isolate me from my family. I let you blame me for us not having kids. I let you hit me, call me names; belittle me and undermine me in front of my staff but I will _not _let youtake this company away from me. Do you hear me?"

Her voice trembled as it raised but she hadn't backed down as she spot through ground teeth. "I'll be_ damned_ if you pull the rug out from under me!"

"So you think I'm gonna let you walk on outta here with my papers?"

"You can see it again when I take you to court."

"Court?" mocked Shane, "I never bought the shares, bitch—you can't take me to court for shit."

Mercedes opened her mouth to remind him of the embezzlement, but she saw Sam advancing to Shane from her peripheral vision, derailing her attention.

"Don't touch him, Sam!" Mercedes shouted, stepping quickly in between them—the sweet image of Dani's face popping up in her mind again.

"Get outta the goddamn way before I make you!" barked Shane with a step to her and Sam. "He wants to go? Let's go, you little shit."

Now Mercedes' gaze turned murderous. "I might not have called the police on you for hitting me, but don't think for one _second_ that I'm gonna stand by and watch you lay a hand on him."

Shane stopped in his tracks, burning his gaze into her face. After several seconds, he coughed another chuckle, cupping a hand over his nose while he asked Sam, "You her bodyguard now, you has-been?" Without giving Sam an opportunity to reply, he looked to Mercedes and warned her, "I'll sue your worthless ass for theft if you walk out of here with my papers."

"I know copies when I see them so you must have the originals somewhere. I doubt you'll miss these." She clutched her purse even closer to her body, "And you wanna talk about theft? How about we talk about the money you've been embezzling from my company—a company you never _once_ lifted a finger to help?"

"I signed that fucking lo—"

"To hell with the loan, Shane! To hell with the damn loan! The contract is almost up and it's not gonna get me to back down from you anymore! You think that helping me get the loan for my company entitles you to the amount of money you've been stealing from me? You haven't even help me in paying it back—you were too caught up in your own loans and debts from law school! Debts that _I_ helped bail you out of!" When he didn't answer, she told him, "Now you tried to set me up, well guess what? It's not happening! So you go ahead and file a lawsuit. In fact I'll race you to the judge."

The fear within her was being heavily outshined by the strength and validity of her words. For the first time in years she felt truly capable of standing up to Shane. It wasn't until she felt Sam's hand come over her shoulder that she decided it was a good time to leave, however.

"So what's changed this time, huh?" coughed Shane in a noticeably weaker voice. "What changed, huh bitch?"

Mercedes snatched up her shoes and tucked them under her arm with her purse. She touched her hand to Sam's chest, firmly urging him to leave with her despite him looking like he was itching to lay one more throw across Shane's face. As they started to retreat towards the elevator, Shane appeared at the door and hollered again, "What changed, Mercedes?!"

"WE changed, Shane!" she answered too sweetly. "You and I changed! Actually, scratch that…_I_ changed because that's what you do when you grow up. But not you...Not you, Shane. You'll always be this greedy, jealous little _boy_, stuck in his ways." Her teeth ground together, "And I'm tired of it. I'm _sick_ and _tired _of it and I'm not hiding anymore. I'm done letting you drown me."

Again, she ushered Sam to the elevator, pressed the button and stepped inside with a sharp, final gaze towards the penthouse door, until the elevator closed her and Sam inside.

* * *

The moment she felt safe enough to breathe deeply, she dropped her armor with an audible sigh, only to quickly gasp again. Sam had swept her into his muscular arms and held her tightly to him.

"Are you okay?" he gruffly asked.

She nodded her head against his chest, "My head hurts a little but it's fine. Are you?" she pulled back and gingerly held his right hand in both of hers, examining his slightly swollen knuckles under the dim elevator lights.

"It's not that bad."

"We'll still ice it when we get back."

The elevator dinged and they stepped out together, heading straight for her car with a brief pause for Mercedes to slip her shoes back on. She wasted no time making, what she hoped would be her final leave from the penthouse.

"So you're really taking him to court?" Sam asked, once they were out of the garage.

"First thing in the morning, I'm calling Sebastian so he can come get this folder. I have to."

"Why?"

When she gave him an 'are you crazy?' look he quickly added, "Not that I don't want to see you do it but…I figured the divorce would've been your out…"

"I have to protect _REAL _and myself. I don't know how he did it yet exactly because I barely looked at these papers, but he used my name to embezzle those funds and I don't want to give him the opportunity to find a way of doctoring up lies and coming after me first with a lawsuit, even though I don't' think he has a prayer of winning. I've got proof of his embezzlement as well as him being the anonymous shark. Sam, he's been using my own money to try and buy me out of my company. I can sue him for…I don't know—conspiracy or something too."

"If you do all of this, you know the media isn't going to ignore it. They're going to know what a fraud your husband is, and then they're gonna go fishing for more info on your marriage—or what it was."

At this, Mercedes calmed and quieted. She filled her lungs and then noisily let it go. "They're already going to know—before a trial can take place, everyone's going to know. Or at least they'll know about the abuse"

Sam's brows furrowed, "What?"

The faintest of smiles played along her lips, "In the next issue of _REAL_…they're going to know everything I felt they should know."

She peeked at Sam's face long enough to see the comprehension come over him. "You did the interview?"

"I did, sort of" she replied, smiling a little more. "I wasn't working on my note in the office today. I was writing up the end my draft to go in the April issue. And…you were right like I said before. It did make me feel better—better than I thought it would. I mean…after I did the first part in my hotel room last night, It felt like these weights were being taken off my shoulders and letting me breathe again. And when I'd stopped writing earlier in my office, I just kind of…sat alone and realized that I really have had enough of Shane. I told you before that I don't feel guilty for us sleeping together before my divorce was finalized. And it's not even one of those 'well he did it first so that makes it okay for me'-sort of things. If anything it's because I know I haven't loved him for a long time; my body and mind haven't been his for a long time and I know I'll never care about him the way I used to. Plus it's clear that he doesn't give a lick about me—just what my success could do for him. So to an extent, I sort of pity him."

At that, Sam chuckled once, dryly, "I don't."

Mercedes half-smiled, "I could've guessed that after you punched him in the face."

"I would've done more than that but…I kept thinking about what you said to me in the car before you went up—about thinking about Dani. You know how much I love my daughter…"

She nodded. "Of course I do."

"But you have no idea how hard it was for me leave him alone after that punch."

"I think I _do_ have an idea, Sam…" Her sentence trailed off as she slipped her right hand into his left and held it securely.

Sam gave her hand a quick squeeze and then lifted both their hands until his lips were pressed to the back of her hand. He held it for the bulk of the ride back to the hotel—only letting go when she reached up to rub the side of her head. After a while, he noticed that she kept rubbing the same spot and asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded, parking in the back as usual. "I um…" she shook her head and pushed back the half lie that almost automatically formed in her mind. It was a force of habit for her to lie about how she'd come to get injuries or headaches, but she reminded herself that it was no longer necessary for her to do—especially not with Sam. With another sigh, she admitted to him, "Before Shane went to answer the door he shoved me. I lost my footing and hit my head on the desk."

Immediately, Sam's eyes bulged but Mercedes could see his features carving deep set fury again. She shook her head, grabbing her purse and keys from the back seat, "I'm fine—I'm gonna take some aspirin and sleep it off."

He looked unconvinced but Mercedes cupped a hand to his cheek and articulated each word while repeating, "_I'm fine_, Sam."

Sam placed one of his larger hands over hers and nodded once, gave her hand a quick gentle squeeze and then got out of the car. Mercedes followed his actions and walked with him inside the hotel. When they got in the elevator, Sam hugged her to him again and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Mercedes let out a comforted sigh and told him, "I need a vacation…" When she raised her head to look at him, she gave a smile that hadn't touched her eyes.

"I agree. When this is all over, you should take one."

"I don't know when this is gonna be over. I still need to call my parents. I keep putting it off because I'm so sure they're gonna be disappointed in me."

"For what?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Just…they didn't like Shane. They weren't for us getting married. I didn't listen to them and now I'm wishing I had—look at what a winner he turned out to be. Thief, cheater, abuser."

Sam stepped out of the elevator with her, escorting her to her room while he asked, "Do you think your parents disown you or something?"

Mercedes shook her head, "I don't…I mean I don't know for sure but I don't think so. I'm the one that screwed everything up. I told them I wasn't having anymore contact with them for not supporting my marriage. And when it came back to bite me in the ass, tenfold, I was too ashamed to pick up the phone or get on a plane and tell them how right they ended up being. Damn pride."

Sam's brows raised at the last bit she muttered, and as they stood in front of her door, he told her, "It's not too late, you know. When's the last time you spoke to them?"

"….Over five years ago…just before _REAL _got started."

He smoothed both hands over her arms and leaned forward to kiss her forehead; she in response, shut her eyes feeling smitten and a bit light-headed by the soft, sweet gesture.

"I'd bet anything that they would love to hear from you. You're their daughter and I imagine they must love you, even after all these years."

Mercedes opened her eyes again and sighed softly, "They do. I just hate that I hurt them, all because of Shane. I feel terrible."

"Then tell them that," he answered, brushing some strands of hair aside from near her temple; his eye caught something that made his calmed expression change, which made Mercedes give him a quizzical stare.

"What?"

She saw Sam's jaw tighten beneath the reddish-brown five o'clock shadow. "Your head."

"What about it?" she naively asked.

To answer her, his fingertips made the lightest trip along her hairline, causing her to wince.

"Yeah, that," he mumbled, scowling at a bump she could not see.

"It's just a little tender. I'll take some aspirin tonight," she promised, lowering her head so that she could locate her room key. When she found it and slid it in to open the door, she looked back, "Sam?"

He was still watching her, waiting now for her to speak on.

"Thank you for what you did tonight…I mean I know punching Shane wasn't all about what he's been trying to do to me but…still."

Sam's lips pulled up in a weak half-smile, and at the reminder, he flexed his hand a couple of times. "My pleasure."

Mercedes' eyes caught his bending fingers and told him again, "Put some ice on that tonight, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," he said to her—much like he'd done when they were in the elevator. Their romp seemed so long ago, thanks to the events that followed. Mercedes felt physically and mentally drained. She was beyond ready for the weekend; ready to have this nightmare carousel end so she could get off and move forward _without_ Shane having any further attachment to her life.

Giving Sam one more small, kind smile and a nod, she murmured, "Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, Mercedes," he replied.

As soon as she let the lock catch on her door, she turned her back to the door and stared heavenward, finding herself already missing Sam. She worried for his hand and how the new information regarding his attorney's betrayal was going from now, on. Was he going to come to resent her somehow, for the actions her ex-husband had done to him back then? Was the truth going to turn Sam bitter? These questions and concerns were spinning in Mercedes' head, making her feel dizzy. She strode swiftly but cautiously to her bed to sit down and take off her shoes first. After giving her feet a light rub, she took off her coat and thanked herself for already being her pajamas. She pulled opened the side table drawer where her Zoloft, Vitamin-C and Ibuprofen bottles were all stashed. After plucking the Ibuprofen bottle out, she popped two in her mouth and swallowed them dry, then put the bottle back and laid back, shutting her eyes and taking several deep breaths. Her body had been wound up on adrenaline from confronting Shane but it was finally going away, causing her to fully acknowledge the pain pulsing at her hairline. While she'd hoped it wasn't anything severe, she wouldn't make haste to phone her doctor about it unless she woke up feeling worse.

As she lay in the dark, watching the various events of the day and night flash through her mind, she shivered, and more thoughts of Sam asserted their way to the front of her thoughts. Mercedes clamped her lips together while turning to lay on her side in the bed. She closed her eyes and sadi a few prayers that night—for herself, her company, her friends and finally, Sam and Dani. Her hopes from them had been the longest of anything she'd prayed over that night but when she finished, she found herself sitting up and leaving the bed. Her hand swiped the key card off the side table and she paced the floor a few times, arguing with herself over what she was about to do. Before she knew it, she was leaving her room. Her heart was pounding in her ears—she didn't know what was going to happen but before anything could be un-done, she'd come to Sam and Dani's room and knocked lightly thrice on the door.

After the third knock, she debated hurrying back to her room but it would have been foolish; how many other hotel residences were up at this hour just to play ding dong ditch? She rolled her eyes at herself, feeling incredibly childish, and steeled herself at the door once she heard a lock shift.

The door swung open and for a split second she was distracted by Sam's half-naked form. He was standing only in a towel—the white material wrapped precariously low across his pelvis—but his hair and skin were bone dry.

"Mercedes, are you okay? Did something happen?" he asked sounding grave and genuinely concerned.

She shook her head, "I…I wanted to ask you if I could stay with you tonight. I mean if it'd be awkward for you or Dani, I'll go but I…"

Sam was shaking his head, "DAni's not here."

"She's not?" Mercedes asked, a bit louder than intended.

Sam chuckled once, "I had a note on my bed when I got back from Finn. He's staying the night while Rachel works graveyard so Dani's at the spare room with him. He's bringing her back in the morning so she can get ready for school."

Mercedes calmed down with one slow nod, "Oh."

"Yeah," Sam replied, "So…I was just getting in the shower…"

Mercedes took his hint and nodded more quickly this time, "Okay. Sorry to bother you, I just…"

"Mercedes."

"Huh?"

"You're not bothering me. I just was trying to explain why I'm answering the door in a towel. Here," he stepped aside and gestured towards the interior of the room. "Come in. I_ want_ you to stay."

She struggled to fight the smile that spread lightly across her lips and stepped inside, clutching her room key in one hand while the other hand was a loose fist. After the door shut, she heard Sam shuffle past her, saying, "Make yourself comfortable. I won't be long, I promise."

Mercedes nodded and went to sit down on the bed. She spent all of half a minute trying to figure out which side Sam normally slept on so that she wouldn't accidentally take it, but the man was so thorough about making his bed that she couldn't tell by simply looking at it. Instead, she sat down, glanced at the door for a quick second and when the water came on, she lowered her face to the pillows and inhaled deeply through her nose. The pillow smelled ordinary so she went to the other one and did the same. It smelled the same.

"Ugh!" she groaned quietly and then sighed. Her mind and body were still plenty exhausted and had she been more driven, she would have done more to try and figure it out, but she merely settled for the left side of the bed, pulling back the comforter and sheets and slipping herself beneath. It had been one of the longest days she'd had in a while and she was beyond ready for it to end.

She closed her eyes, listening to the muffled sound of the shower water until her mind started to slip in and out of unconsciousness. Eventually she'd nodded off with her face turned into one of the pillows; she didn't know how long she'd been in the thin layer of slumber but the sudden feeling of warm flesh at her back and across her right arm had her gasping and snapping her eyes open.

"It's me," Sam whispered at her back. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Her eyes rolled shut and her body immediately relaxed. "It's fine," she mumbled sleepily. It would have been a bit easier for her to fall back asleep, he her nose not caught the scent of his Irish Spring body wash. It was alluring enough to make her eyes cross, and judging back the warmth from his arm, burning right through the satin sleeve of her pajamas, his upper body at least was still unclothed.

Letting herself relax into his form, Mercedes bent her left arm, letting her hands search in the dark for Sam's hand and when she found it, she held it loosely and waited for her mind to drift back into slumber. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly safe. Like no harm could come to her under the wing of Sam's warm, solid, muscular arms.

She was too tired to question it but before she was too far into her sleep, she could have sworn she heard Sam mumble something that sounded like gibberish. Little did she know, his words were Na'vi for 'dream well, beautiful.'

* * *

_**More is of course coming. I hadn't planned on this chapter being as long as it was, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter—reviews are love! **_

_**Chapter title: "Face Down" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.**_


	13. Hope You're Happy Now

**-March-**

Mercedes stood in front of a full length mirror inside one of her favorite dress boutiques, smoothing her hands down the hips of the one-shoulder, plum-colored gown—one of three dresses she was currently considering for the _REAL_ anniversary party. As she stood in front of the mirror, weighing her pros and cons to this particular garment, her thoughts drifted back to a few nights earlier when she'd been lying comfortably in Sam's arms.

_They couldn't have been asleep for more than two hours—possibly three, when three solid knocks on the door pounded, rousing the both of them from their sleep. As they snapped out of unconsciousness, Sam's arms left her and an ongoing buzzing noise sounded near their heads. Sam's phone was just about to fall off of the nightstand but he caught it and squinted at the ID._

"_What the…?" While he answered, Mercedes slowly sat up, "I can get the door if you want."_

_Sam nodded while taking his call, "What's going on Finn? Is Dani okay?"_

_In the midst of Finn answering, Mercedes checked the peephole and relaxed, pulling the door open to reveal the exceptionally tall Finn Hudson standing on the other side in a wife beater and black pajama pants. In one hand, he had his phone at his ear; his other arm was cradling Danica to his side. Her face was buried against his neck and she was sniffling repeatedly._

_Mercedes frowned the instant she realized Danica had been crying. "Dani, are you okay?" she sadly asked._

_Finn, who looked a bit upset, sympathizing for the young girl, explained, "She had a bad dream. I couldn't get her to calm down—she wanted her dad real bad."_

_Sam had limped his way to the door, reaching out for his daughter, "Thanks, man."_

_As Danica leaned away from Finn, right into her daddy's arms, Finn's upset expression dissolved, only to be transformed into curiosity at Mercedes' recurring presence. "You guys weren't…"_

_Though Mercedes felt her face getting warm she shook her head, "No, no. We were just sleeping."_

_Finn nodded slowly—looking a bit skeptical about her answer, but both their attention was captured by Danica's soft whimper._

"_Daddy..."_

"_I'm right here, Baby Girl," he promised in a soft, sweet tone. He'd taken a seat on the edge of his bed and was kissing and stroking her head. "I'm right here."_

"_Hey," spoke Finn in a low voice to Mercedes. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"_

_Her brows twitched towards her hairline but she nodded, "Sure." With one more concerned glance back at Sam and Danica, she stepped out into the hallway, flipping the top lock so that she wouldn't be completely shut out of the room. She squinted, adjusting her sight to the hallway luminance followed Finn to take few steps away from the door before speaking with each other._

"_So…you're Sam's boss—the CEO of _REAL_ right?"_

_She shrugged and bobbed her head to one side indifferently, "I'm the CEO, yes, and _REAL_ is my company but I don't really boss Sam around, no."_

"_Okaaay," replied Finn with a fleeting glance at the floor. "But if you wanted him fired or something, you could do that, right?"_

_Confused as to where this was going, she nodded slowly, "Yes? I could but why would I?"_

_Finn puffed his chest full of air and let it noisily go while rocking on his heels, "Mercedes, right?"_

_She nodded again._

"_Mercedes, I'm just trying to look out for my friend. I mean Sam's sorta like a brother to me and I know he's been through a lot of stuff…relationships haven't exactly been smooth for him. He talks about you a lot though—more than any other chick I've seen him with, which isn't much since Heather died."_

_Her cheeks were warming up again but she stayed completely attentive to Finn's speech. _

"_I just don't wanna see him get hurt, y'know? And if for some reason, he doesn't feel ready to date and decides to step away from being with you or something, I just don't want you to go firing him over it—he's been screwed over enough in life and I know he's been trying to do everything he can for Dani ever since he found out she existed."_

"_Hold up," she spoke sharply, while raising an index finger to Finn. "Look I understand you're trying to look out for Sam, and I respect you coming to bat for him, but I'm not going to wrong him. I know hie's been through a lot. He's told me some of what he's been through, and he and I found out even more just tonight." At Finn's confused look, she shook her head and mumbled, "I'll let him tell you about that—look, the point is, I care a lot about him and Danica and I'm not the kind of woman to go around blatantly wronging people I care about."_

_Mercedes could feel a sheet of anger blanketed over her flattery and anxiousness to get back to Sam and Dani; Finn was a good friend, but she couldn't help feeling a little bit offended at being thought of as a woman who would set out to break Sam's heart or fire him if he did that to her—something she struggled to imagine him doing._

"_I just wanted you to know."_

_She nodded, trying to pacify her thin layer of upset and told him in a very final tone, "You don't have to worry about me hurting Sam. I'm not going to do that." _

_With that, she made to return to Sam and Dani but as her palm pressed to the partially open door, she felt Finn's large hand come down on her shoulder to seize her attention once more._

"_If Sam asks, let him know I went to check up on Rachel, okay?"_

"_I will," she replied with a nod. Once back inside the room, her eyes started to adjust to the darkness once more; she flipped the lock back to its proper position and closed the door as quietly as possible, only to turn and find the main space—and Sam's bed—empty. Her eyes immediately went to the crack of dim light illuminating from Dani's bedroom. Mercedes quietly padded to the ajar door, stifling a yawn, and peeked inside; Sam's V-shaped back was to her as he sat in his pajama pants, but she could see Danica's slender arms hugged tightly around his neck. She watched Sam gently rock his little girl from side to side while murmuring to her, "Wanna tell me what the bad dream was about?"_

_Danica sniffled, "You were gone. I dunno where you were, Daddy."_

"_Oh, Dani," Sam replied sadly and then pressed a long kiss to the top of her head, "That dream was bad but you know what? I'm right here, Princess. I'm always gonna do whatever I have to so that I can be right here for you, okay Baby Girl?"_

_When Danica nodded, Sam moved one hand from around her and wiped her cheeks with his thumb. "I love you, Dani. I'm always, always gonna love you."_

"_I love you too Daddy," she mumbled back—the sadness still very apparent in her voice._

_Mercedes frowned but the inside of her nose tickled, letting her know exactly what was coming next. She panicked for a moment and tried to pinch it to prevent the inevitable sneeze. When it hadn't worked and the air whooshed past her gritted teeth, she looked back to the crack in the door to see Sam staring at her and Dani with her head raised, also staring sleepily at her. _

"_Hi Miss Cedes," Danica sniffed._

_Mercedes smiled sadly and shyly entered the young girl's room. It was a small room with a full size hotel bed. Sam had ride it of the standard hotel comforters in exchange for a pink and purple Disney princess bed set, giving it more of a homey feel along with the purple night light and wall decals of Rapunzel, Tiana, Ariel and Belle. Seeing all of the Disney items switched a light bulb on in Mercedes' head. She walked over to stand near Danica and Sam and asked, "Dani, I still owe you a song, don't I?"_

_Danica nodded, "Mhm," against Sam's chest while her bright green, watery eyes stared up at Mercedes._

"_Do you know the play version of 'Cinderella'?"_

_The little girl shook her head and sniffled again; to Mercedes' surprise, however, Sam had nodded slowly and smiled, "Ahh yeah. I remember performing that my junior year in high school."_

_Mercedes' brows rose but she also smiled, "You were into theatre?"_

_Sam grinned softly and jerked his head back slightly, "You sound surprised. Yeah, I was."_

_For a quick moment, Mercedes gazed at the floor in thought and then looked back to Dani, "What if your Daddy and I sing you a duet tonight? Is that okay?"_

_She smiled at the subtle alarm that crossed Sam's face but her smile grew when Danica's face brightened up a b fraction and mumbled sleepily, "Okie."_

_Mercedes smiled, watching the little girl yawn and while Sam stood with Dani and adjusted the blankets, Mercedes moved slowly around to the foot of the bed and said, "The song I'm thinking of—your daddy would have to start, but I promise I'll sing it too. _

_Again she'd caught Sam off guard but when she gave him a reassuring nod, he lowered his gaze to watch what his hands were doing—tucking Danica snuggly in bed—and thought. She knew the moment the song popped into Sam's head, the moment it showed on his face, and she smiled, prepared to hear his singing voice._

"_Do I love you because you're beautiful or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I making believe I see in you—a girl too lovely to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem?_…_"_

_Mercedes gave him another nod, drew in a quiet breath and sang, "_Am I making believe I see you, a man too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as wonderful as you seem?_" _

_She watched the smile return to Sam's face as he watched her sing Cinderella's part of the song. He had one hand placed over Danica's and joined Mercedes in singing the harmonizing finish. The entire time that they sang, "_Are you the sweet invention of a lovers' dream, or are you really as wonderful as you seem?_" the two had their eyes fixed sleepily on one another._

_Danica had either worn herself out with her reaction to the bad dream, or their duet ballad was enough to put her back to sleep. Either way, Sam broke his fixed gaze on Mercedes to watch her sleep for a moment, and Mercedes shut her eyes and bowed her head, saying a quick prayer for Dani to have good dreams, and when she opened her eyes, she too was looking at the slumbering little girl. Together, she and Sam watched her sleep for another minute or so, and then she quietly stepped away from the bed and made her way to the door. Sam was behind her in no time, leaving after her with the lights off and the door slightly ajar. He returned to the bed, pulling back the covers, but looked up when Mercedes had only stood next to the bed._

"_Maybe I should go? If Dani wakes up again, she'll probably wanna sleep here with you and…I don't want her to feel like she can't."_

_In the dark she could see Sam grimacing at her, "Mercedes, it's fine. I think you being here too, and singing with me to her was really helpful."_

_She made to sit down on the bed with her back to Sam, and stared at the dark ground for a moment, and then made herself horizontal. Sam's arm came around her again, drawing her close to his warm body again. She smiled, feeling a bit better about staying, despite her concern for Danica, and closed her eyes._

"_You know what song I thought you were thinking of?" asked Sam in a very low whisper._

_The Cinderella duet had been all but forgotten as she replied, Mmm?"_

_Rather than telling her, he showed by softly singing, "Ten minutes ago I saw you, I looked up when you came through the door. My head started reeling—you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor…"_

_With eyes still shut and a growing smile on her lips, Mercedes interrupted to sing the next part with equal quietness, "Ten minutes ago I met you, and we murmured our 'how do you do?'s. I wanted to ring out the bells and fling out my arms and to sing out the news. I have found him…"_

"She's an angel," _cut in Sam_, "with the dust of the stars in her eyes. We are dancing, we are flying and she's taking me back to the skies.._."_

_Mercedes sang the next part after yawning, "_In the arms of my love, I'm flying over mountains and meadows and land, and I like it so well that for all I can tell I may never come down again_."_

_Together, they were both mumbling sleepily at this point, "I _may never come down to Earth again_…"_

* * *

"Mercedes?"

She blinked rapidly, "Huh? What?"

Tina's brows were high on her forehead but she giggled, "I was asking what you thought about this dress, but…you were totally zoned out."

Mercedes shook her head and though a smile started to creep back on her face from her recollection, Tina missed it and rushed to comfort her, making the wrong assumption.

"I'm sorry, Mercedes—I'm doing a terrible job of distracting you from all the craziness this week, aren't I?"

"No, no Tina that's not it, I promise." Her knowing smile spread. The week had, indeed, been crazy—from her impromptu romp with Sam, followed by the chaos and revelations involving Shane and a night of little sleep. Then she'd met with Sebastian at his firm to deliver the papers she'd found in Shane's office, only to have Lauren give her her divorce papers while there. She wasted no time signing and returning them, and by Friday, Puck let her know that everything had been finalized for the April issue of _REAL_ and they would be printed over the weekend. She thought about how she continuously prayed that the shock of Shane's betrayal to Sam wouldn't harden his heart; thus far, he had remained kind and somewhat protective of her whenever he saw or spoke to her.

When Tina caught the small smile cross Mercedes' face, she gasped softly, "Is this about that janitor guy you told me about? What's his name? Steve?"

Mercedes stopped her private recollection and nearly snorted, "No, Sam. And yes it's about him, sorta."

Tina sighed, hanging up the garment back that had been waiting in her hands and then asked, "I'm still waiting to be introduced to this fellow."

"Well _I'm_ still waiting to hear what you think about this dress," Mercedes evasively retorted. "I don't know if I wanna do the purple, black or red. And as for your dress, I like the one you've got on the best."

Tina had been donning a strapless black and white number. Several geometric patterns littered the entire garment and hugged her form from her bust to her knees, where it flared like a fishtail.

"I like this one too," Tina answered, beaming a smile with her hands propped on her hips. "But don't think this is gonna distract me, Mercedes. What's the holdup? When are Puck and I gonna get to meet Sam officially?"

Mercedes shrugged, walking over to look at another dress she'd been eyeing, "I don't know, Tina. I don't even know what Sam and I are."

"You like him right?"

"Yeah—of course I do."

"And he likes you?"

Mercedes felt her face getting warm again, "Yeah, I'd say so."

"You two have been seeing each other, right?"

"Yes? Tina come on—I don't like the 20 Questions game."

"I'm just trying to see why you're not sure what you and Sam are. Sounds to me like you two are an item."

"I know, and it's starting to feel that way but..I don't know—it just doesn't feel right to make some sort of official declaration over it right now since I just signed my divorce papers this week."

Tina took her place in front of the full length mirror, turning her shoulders from side to side to admire the geometric dress. As she did so, she asked, "So this is about what others would think about you going from a divorce to a new relationship?"

"Well…yeah. I mean I know Shane was the one in the wrong for everything, and trust me—I'm not looking to spare his feelings or any of that, but…"

Mercedes couldn't figure out what could follow the 'but' that wouldn't sound like she was trying to preserve Shane's feelings. She pursed her lips together, staring harder at the cream-colored, empire waist, halter dress with diamonds embedded below the bust.

"Mercedes you only owe yourself the time you think you need to move on to a new relationship. If _you_ think it's too soon for you to be getting close to Sam or any guy, then don't. But don't deprive yourself of something just because of what others might think. If you had always thought that way about things, then I bet you _REAL_ wouldn't be as authentic as it is."

One thing Mercedes could always rely on from her two best friends, was their ability to be honest with her—no matter how much she might not want to hear it or face it. And now, Sam knew how she felt about him; hell, she had come clean right before they'd christened one of the elevators at her company! She spent that night nestled in his arms, and continued to get those flutters in her stomach whenever he came around to see her.

Before she could get too caught up in her own thoughts again, Tina got her attention by saying, "Try that one on 'Cedes—you're practically drooling over it. Plus we still have to pick up our masks and find some shoes that won't have our feet screaming by the end of the night."

Mercedes giggled softly, "Okay okay. I'm so excited for the party—nervous too, but really excited. A masquerade was such a great idea, Tina!"

Tina grinned, "Thanks! So is _Sam_ gonna be there?"

She rolled her eyes at the way her friend dragged out Sam's name but couldn't help smiling like a grade school kid. "I don't know—it never comes up when I'm wih him but if he can find a sitter that night, I'm sure he'll come."

Tina's brows rose, "A sitter?"

"Yeah, he's got a daughter. She's four—I could've sworn I told you about her already, but oh my gosh, Tina she's so adorable," gushed Mercedes.

Tina continued to look surprised and a bit wary but she still smiled, "Wow he has a daughter, and you're okay with that?"

"Um…yeah? I love Danica—she's the sweetest little girl I've ever met. And Sam really is the best father to her."

Listening to how passionate Mercedes turned when talking about Sam and Danica mellowed Tina's concern, but she brought her hands back to her hips and said, "Well he's gonna have to pass mine and Puck's tests if he wants to get the "best boyfriend to 'Cedes" title too."

Again Mercedes giggled softly while taking the halter dress to her dressing room, "Thanks Tina. I'm sure he'll pass with flying colors. He's had some hard knocks but…he's a good guy."

As she changed from one dress to the other, she kept trying to imagine Puck putting on his 'big brother' persona in front of Sam for Mercedes and the image made her smile. Puck was tough in many ways, but something told her Puck and Sam might get along well. As for Tina meeting Sam, she had a feeling Tina wouldn't have a problem asking straightforward questions that would leave Sam as red as a tomato; she told herself to keep close, should Sam come to the party and get cornered by Tina.

While zipping up the back of the dress as much as she could do alone, she heard her phone buzzing repeatedly inside her purse. Her thoughts immediately went down the list of potential callers—Sam calling to see how her day was so far; Puck half-checking up on her, half-whining about the formalwear mandate for the party, or perhaps Lauren and Sebastian managed to get a court date set up soon, to settle the scandal against _REAL_. Whatever the reason for this call, she prayed it wouldn't be another onslaught of bad news.

When her Droid was in her palm, Sebastian's name glared up at her.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Mercedes, tell me you're near a television right now," demanded Sebastian.

Her brows furrowed, "Um…no—I'm in a dressing room but the boutique I'm at has a T.V. Why?"

"Get to it and put it on channel 7!"

The creases on her forehead deepened as she made to leave the dressing room.

"Aw, Mercedes that's the dr—wait where are you going?" asked a quickly puzzled Tina.

Mercedes gestured for her to follow while she made her way to one of the associates. The teleivion had been showing a crime investigation show but Mercedes quickly requested that they put it on the news channel. The associate behind the counter gave her an indignant look in response but Mercedes pressed until the woman finally gave and changed the channel. Almost immediately Mercededs' mouth fell open from what she was seeing. The local news station had a camera filming the arrest of her ex-husband, directly outside of their penthouse. He had his head turned away from the camera, but there was no mistaking his burly form as it was escorted towards a squad car by two officers.

"Turn it up!" cried Tina, who was watching with equal astonishment.

"Can you believe it?!" Mercedes heard Sebastian gleefully ask.

On the television, the reporter was saying, "…the 31 year-old attorney was recently discovered smuggling funds from nationally famed magazine, _REAL_ and allegedly attempted to frame the CEO for embezzlement. The magazine was founded and is currently run by Tinsley's wife, Mercedes Jones-Tinsley, whom the former had been married to for the past 6 years. We spoke briefly with one of his wife's lawyers who said, quote, 'Mr. Tinsley has stolen much from my client. It's past time for him to pay the piper, tenfold'. Well it certainly looks like the lawyers are moving swiftly to be sure that that happens. This is Candace Sherman reporting live in LA."

"I thought you were waiting 'til Monday to petition for a warrant."

She could practically see the nonchalant shrug and smug smirk from Sebastian as he said, "Eh, why wait? And while I was at it, I figured a couple news stations might have been hungry for a decent Saturday afternoon story. Looks like this might satiate them for the time being."

Mercedes couldn't take her eyes off of the television screen but she shook her head repeatedly, "You're something else, Sebastian."

"I'm wicked—I know. Tell me something I don't know, Mercedes."

She chuckled once, "Okay how about this? You're coming to REAL's anniversary party. I know Tina sent you an invitation but there really shouldn't be a question on whether or not you'll be there."

"I got the invitation…" Sebastian said, letting an affirming or declining response dangle in the air.

Mercedes picked up on it in no time and sighed dramatically into the phone, "Alright if you must have more info—I'm giving a speech and you'll be mentioned in it, and I want you there. Happy now?"

Again, she could practically see Sebastian smirking, "Yes, I'm very happy now. And I'll be at this masquerade of yours."

"Good. And no more telling the media about what happened between Shane and I. Not until after the party."

This time Sebastian gave the dramatic sigh, "Ooookay, if you insist."

"I do. Bye, Sebastian."

"Bye, Doll. I'll speak with you soon."

With that, their conversation ended and Mercedes looked to Tina who looked like she might jump right out of her clothes and dance butt naked in the shop. Mercedes' eyes widened, only to be followed by her bursting out in laughter as Tina had started dancing around in circles, rambling at a million miles a second about how over the moon she was to see Shane finally getting what was coming to him for all he'd done. It was the first time in—she couldn't remember when—that she'd laughed so hard, and so freely. And as silly as Tina's celebrating was, it was a bit contagious. Witnessing Shane's arrest was another layer being shed—another weight liberated from Mercedes. But her moment to bask in her friend's excitement came to a slight halt when her phone soon exploded with calls and texts—none of whom were Puck or Sam.

"Oh hell," muttered Mercedes, recognizing some of the numbers from tabloid magazines, other journalist outlets and so-on. Before answering anything, she asked Tina, "Is this the one or no?"

Her arms spread out and she gave one quick turn to show all angles of the dress before being met bt quiet claps from tina.

"I approve. That's the one, 'Cedes."

"Thanks, Tina. Okay let's get out of here before the chicks here decide to kick us out for all our crazy."

At that, she and Tina promptly headed back to their dressing rooms. Her phone was going off until she and Tina finished their shopping and errands but for the time being, she was going to do her best to enjoy this news; Shane had forged his path in life, and now she was moving forward to reinvent her own.

_**Please leave reviews! Sorry for the long wait on an update. I needed some time away but I'm back and hoping to get on with frequent updates again. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The recollection to her night with Sam; the talk Mercedes and Finn had, the dress fitting chat with Tina, the call from Sebastian and what followed—what did you think? Let me know!**_

_**Chapter Title: "Hope You're Happy Now" by The Sounds**_


	14. Hurt

**-March-**

Mercedes and Tina finished up their errands—both women felt more than satisfied with their dress and accessory selections—and then Mercedes dropped Tina off at home. As Tina got out of the car with her garment bag and shopping bags, she looked to Mercedes through the Camaro passenger window and asked, "Are you sure you're okay? I mean…with all that's happened with Shane? I know we were doing victory laps in the stores but…you're not like…covering up or anything, right?"

Mercedes shook her head, "I'm good, Tina. You were right about what you said about me not needing to keep up appearances if I don't want to. Besides, I have a date tonight and tomorr—"

"OOooooooOOO a dinner date?! With _Saaaam_?" asked a very interested Tina as she sang his name again.

"Yeesss with Sam," answered Mercedes, playfully nudging her friend.

"Where are you two going?"

She shrugged, "I'm not sure. He wouldn't say, but I told him until he's able to get his car fixed, we were taking my car." After stroking her steering wheel affectionately, she added, "Tomorrow Puck and I are looking at some places for me to move into by May, and I promise if you two don't meet him before the party, I'll do my best to talk him into going. I'm sure he could use the night of celebrating and relaxing just as much as I can."

Tina smiled, "Take care, 'Cedes. Get some rest; try that Burke Williams spa out again that you, me, Sugar and Santana went to for my baby shower."

"Thanks, Tina. I'll call you tomorrow after Puck and I are done."

"Sounds good," replied Tina. "See ya, 'Cedes!"

As she drove off, heading back to Best Western, Mercedes let some suppressed thoughts surface. Her priority, once she got back to the hotel was to reach out to her parents. Terrified as she was, she knew it was past time to try and talk to them again. If nothing else, she wanted to apologize to them for the years of distance she allowed to exist between them.

She took her garment bag and other belongings up to her room and while she put them away she rehearsed in her mind what she was going to say to them. "Hi, Mom? Dad? It's Mercedes—your daughter? Yeah, I was just calling to tell you I tok my last bite of crow so I'm ready to fully apologize to you both and I hope you'll talk to me again, even after I chose not to listen to you or hear from you again."

She prattled all of this off as her last purchase was placed on top of one of her luggage bags in the corner of her room. When she got to her bed her shoulders slumped and she sighed, holding her phone with both hands. One press of the 'call' button and she could very well be speaking to her parents again. One button and she could be opening up a gate of 'I Told you so's, or 'Why'd you wait 'til now to try and talk to us?' or 'You calling to move back home?'. She didn't know what she was going to get from her parents but everything she kept hearing in her head was negative.

Before giving herself another moment's hesitation, she hit the 'call' button and held the phone to her ear, drawing in a ragged breath and letting it quietly go out of he rmouth.

"Mercedes?! Baby? Your father and I just saw the news—are you alright? You weren't there when that rat was arrested, were you?"

Though taken aback by her mother's instant worry and rage, Mercedes calmly replied, "No, I was dress shopping. My attorney has a thing for spectacles though."

"Well someone should've been making a spectacle out of that damn fool! Stealing from your company and then trying to pin it on you! It's true, isn't it?"

Mercedes let out a deep breath of air and gave a nod her mother could not see. "It's true, Mom. But…there's more…"

Her throat began to close upon her as she tried to form the confession about the abuse she'd suffered for the past 4 years. For some reason, it felt painfully more difficult to tell her parents than anyone else she'd told thus far. However, she knew it was imperative that they find out from her, and not potentially come across it in the April issue of _REAL_.

"What is it, Mercy?"

Mercedes thought her throat would surely close and stay shut at the sound of her mother calling her 'Mercy' again. Her parents were the only ones to call her that. She sucked in another deep breath and started by saying, "I'm sorry, Mom." It was a struggle for her to get the words out—she almost felt incapable but her voice hadn't abandoned her entirely.

"I'm sorry too, Baby. Your father and I…it's not that we wanted to isolate you but…you're a grown woman now, Mercedes. Our days of telling you what you can and can't do are long gone; we've only got the power to influence you. Since you were set on being with that man, there wasn't anything else we could do, but I'm so sorry we made you feel like you couldn't talk to us anymore. That was wrong of us."

"I know, but…I didn't make you feel like I was ever gonna contact you guys again. And I regret that…so much, Mom. And not just for this whole ordeal with REAL…" The moment of truth arose; her heart pounded hard in her chest—her pulls beat loudly in her ears as she began to tell her mom about the past four years of abuse in her marriage. She hadn't gone into tedious detail; however, she'd shared more than enough with her mom, highlighting various events from the past four years, plus the things regarding _REAL_ that the media didn't yet know.

She could tell her mom was fighting back tears on the other end of the phone. Her quick but heavy breaths made Mercedes' eyes well up with hot tears as well but they hadn't spilled over until she heard her mom breathe, "Praise God you're still alive, Mercedes…"

Her heart was breaking at the fear and relief blended in her mother's voice. She couldn't speak but her mom had gone on, and quietly cried. "We already lost your brother…if your father and I had lost you too, Mercedes, I—…"

At that, Mercedes lowered her head shamefully in one hand. She hadn't even considered how her parents would react, were Shane to have gotten the opportunity to harm her to that point. The three of them already had to deal in their own ways with the loss of Mercedes' brother, years ago. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like for them to lose both of their children, were it to have happened. Her shoulder shook and she clamped tightly on her lips, trying not to let her mom hear her cry at how utterly selfish she was feeling.

"I'm s-so sorry. I'm sorry, Mom…"

"Y-you…you're okay now though?...Mercedes?"

Mercedes sniffled loudly into the phone and mumbled a shaky, "Yes."

"Good." Her mom took a deep breath of her own and then said, "Listen, Mercedes…I know it's been a…a long time, but..I want to see you…soon, okay?"

Mercedes nodded with her head still in her hand and whimpered, "I want that too, Mom."

Mrs. Jones sniffled, "I'm glad." She managed to begin pulling herself together a lot sooner than Mercedes did. "Listen…you're father's not here right now but…I know he would love to hear from you too."

Again, Mercedes nodded, "I um…I'll call him tomorrow. I promise. P-Puck and I are…looking at some places for me to live, tomorrow."

"How is he?"

This time, Mercedes sniffled, "He's good. He's got himself a girlfriend."

"Do you like her?"

"Yeah," she smiled weakly, "Her name's Quinn. She's a good fit for him. Smart, sharp, pretty…"

Mrs. Jones interrupted and told her, "Please tell Noah I said 'hello' and I'm glad he's going with you to look for somewhere new to live. Where are you staying at now, Mercy?"

"I…I'm at this Best Western here in LA."

"And _he_ doesn't know where you're at, does he?"

"No, Mom…no, I'm safe here. I've been safe here for a little over a month now." The route their conversation was going helped calm Mercedes down and finally lift her head up again. She wiped her eyes and snatched a tissue from the nightstand to clear her nose as well. There was a definite interest in telling her mom about Sam, but they had already discussed so much; it felt overwhelming to her, and she could only imagine how her mother was feeling, despite the way she'd been steeling herself with inquiries now.

"Would you be able to come home for a little bit soon? I know you're probably dealing with a lot right now with your business but…Baby, it would be really nice to just _see_ you."

A fresh pool of tears began to fill her eyes at the strain of desperation in her mom's voice, but as she opened her mouth to try and explain about the divorce and impending trial to protect REAL, her eyes locked on the white garment bag showing from her closet and a light bulb had gone off on Mercedes' head.

"Mom…if I sent you and Dad round trip tickets to LA, would you come out here, the first weekend in April?"

She heard her mom's pregnant pause before asking, "Two weeks from now?"

"Yeah…it's REAL's 5th anniversary. I'm hosting a masquerade party on the company's behalf. I'd really like it if you two were there to celebrate with me. Plus, you'd get to see Puck and meet his girlfriend, and…there's a couple of other people I want you both to meet."

Again her mind went back to Sam, but Tina and Mike were certainly in her thoughts as well as some of the other staff members at REAL.

After another long pause from Mrs. Jones, she said, "Hold on—I'm just marking it on the calendar here."

Mercedes faintly smiled again. Her mom was avid about scheduling everything on the kitchen calendar. Though it seemingly was an insignificant memory, it made Mercedes happy to know that some things hadn't changed.

"Okay, your father and I will be keeping our eyes out for those tickets."

The smile on Mercedes' face grew a bit, "I'll book them tomorrow before I call Dad."

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you again, Mercy. You have no idea, Baby."

Mercedes nodded again, "I think I do. I've missed you guys and I'm so sorry for everything. I wish I'd listened to you."

"Mercedes, as you move on from everything he did to you, try not to build up regrets. I know you've got a little Wonder Woman in you but you _are_ human. Your dad and I love you no matter what you're going through. You'll always be our baby and we'll always be here for you."

The pang of guilt chimed against Mercedes' heart again but she quietly thanked her mom and half-reluctantly ended her conversation. Part of her wanted to tell her mom absolutely everything—to leave nothing out, but another part of her wasn't sure if either of them could handle all of the grief and guilt at once. On top of that, she had spent more time out with Tina than intended and if she was still going to meet Sam for her date, it was time for her to get a move on to prepare.

She plugged her phone in to charge, went to her iHeart Radio app to give her some rejuvenating tunes to listen to, and started to get ready.

* * *

"You look pretty, Daddy!" gushed Danica as she sat, cross-legged on Sam's bed.

Sam gave her a dubious smile, "That's what you said about the last shirt, Danimal."

While holding her ankles and rocking from side to side, Danica playfully answered, "A'cause I like them both!"

Sitting on the bed next to her was the other dress shirt Sam had been considering for his date with Mercedes. It was olive green with black buttons, while the one he currently wore was dark navy blue. It wasn't his first time going on a date but he felt like he was back in high school all over again, fussing over what shirt would be best with his jeans and black loafers.

"Okay, which one do you think Miss Cedes will like?"

At this, Danica pressed a slender index finger over her lips and gave his question some serious thought for all of three seconds, coupled with a long, "Hmmm…" When she finally answered, her finger shot up in the air like a light bulb had gone off in her mind, "The green one!"

Sam started to unbutton the shirt but paused and asked, "Are you sure?"

Danica nodded, "Ah-huh! You're like Prince Naveen, Daddy! You gotta wear the green one!"

He couldn't help smiling at his daughter's fantastical imagination, but went with her decision, snatching the olive shirt and returning one more time to the bathroom to change and check himself over in the mirror. His dark blonde bangs—still slightly damp from his shower—were swept to one side and the sleeves to his olive dress shirt were rolled up as far as they would go, which had only been halfway up his forearm.

As he returned to his daughter for one approving response, several knocks sounded on their door. Sam turned and limped his way to the door. Rachel was standing on the other side of it with a wide smile on her face that grew impossibly wider when Sam opened the door.

"Sam you look so dashing!"

He chuckled once, feeling his cheeks warm as he nonchalantly replied, "It's just a shirt, Rachel."

"Doesn't he look like a prince, Aunt Rachel!?" asked Danica, who rushed over to the door.

Rachel dramatically gasped, "You know what? He _does,_ Danica. I bet you had something to do with that, didn't you?"

Danica nodded profusely, causing her light brown pigtails to bob, "Ah-huh!"

"Thanks for watching her tonight, Rachel. I really appreciate it."

Rachel's smile returned, "It's my pleasure, Sam. Here's the basket you asked for by the way." After he accepted it and made his way to the fridge, Rachel added, "Danica's a gem, and you've been really happy with Mercedes—even with the stuff that came to light earlier this week."

"Yeah," he quickly replied, moving from the fridge to microwave and then the kitchen table where the basket sat. "I'd rather not go there…" As his mind recalled the night he and Mercedes went to the penthouse, Sam flexed his right hand and promptly relaxed it. "Anyway, Mercedes and I should be back before 11. I know she's got some stuff to do tomorrow morning."

"And you're working here in the morning," she added with a remindful nod, inviting herself inside the room. She'd changed out of her manager uniform and was now wearing a knee-length plaid skirt and a thin black three quarter-length scoop neck. As Sam went to say his goodbyes and goodnights to Danica, Rachel's eye caught the mask-shaped invitation sitting on Sam's kitchen table. Her curiosity drew her to it and once it was between her fingers, she read the invite to herself.

"Are you going to this, Sam? It looks like it'll be a fun and extravagant affair."

Sam had just set Danica back on his bed, giving her a front row seat for _Tangled_ when he looked over and saw the paper cat mask in Rachel's hand. "I don't know yet. Listen—I'll talk to you about it some more later; I don't wanna be late picking up my date."

He winked knowingly and Rachel smiled, "Alright, alright but we're definitely not done talking about this party, Sam!"

"Okay, thanks again Rachel! Be good, Danica!" he said while swooping up a blanket and the basket and heading for the door.

He hated the nervous feeling that was creeping over him, despite the fact that deep in his mind, he knew there was no reason to be nervous. He and Mercedes might not have had a first official date alone yet, but they were plenty close already. Still, he desired to court her like a proper southern gentleman, and their schedules over the past few days hadn't allowed them to really talk out some of their time spent together recently. Most importantly—or so he thought—he needed to know how she was feeling about their lack of protection in the elevator. He didn't want to be the one to bring it up, the night it happened, due to the blood-boiling events that followed, and the lack of sleep later on. And from there, they had continuously missed each other, with the exception of some short conversations that always got interrupted by phone calls or appointments.

He knocked thrice on her hotel room door and immediately went into panic mode, wishing he'd gotten flowers or something to give her for this very moment. Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, he tried to swallow back his slight embarrassment, just before Mercedes opened the door for him. The thoughts of flowers had been pushed far away to make room for how quickly smitten she'd made him with her outfit. The usual business attire he'd seen her in was gone and in place, she wore dark skinny jeans, a black camisole and a red leather bolero jacket. Her eyes twinkled as much as her necklace, but her smile was the most illuminating part of her.

"Hey," she spoke, still smiling.

His lips pulled up on one side, "Hi. You look…stunning. I mean you always do but…"

He stumbled to find the right words but Mercedes giggled from it and stepped out with her purse.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Her eyes went to the basket and blanket and then back to his face, "A picnic in the dark?"

Sam forced himself to stop ogling so he could answer her intelligently, "Something like that."

He walked beside her through the halls and lobby until they were at her purple Camaro. He opened his mouth to ask Mercedes for the keys, but she'd wheeled around on her heels and held them at his eye level, "Alright here's the deal—I'm letting you drive but I'm warning you Sam Evans, if you crash or ruin my baby, you and me are gonna have some major problems."

Sam smirked and held up three fingers, close together, "On my honor, I will not purposely crash or damage your baby."

She rolled her eyes but smiled too and let go of the keys; his fast reflexes swooped them up before they could hit the ground. He went to the driver's side, slipped the basket and blanket in the rear seats and sat down, re-acquainting himself with the flawless leather interior and sleek dashboard features, only this time he was on the left. It seemed like Mercedes was proudly letting him take his time to admire her car; eventually, however, he'd gotten it started and left the hotel parking lot.

Once they were on the freeway, Sam asked, "So how was your day? You went to run errands with your assistant today, right?"

Mercedes nodded, "Yeah…Man, that seems like lightyears away now."

When she chuckled at herself, Sam arched a brow, "Um…why's that?"

"I…well, I called my mom today. Spoke to her for the first time in years."

The other brow raised now, "Wow. Was it hard?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Mercedes replied, "Ohh yes. It was harder than I imagined but..I'm glad it happened. It needed to happen."

Sam gave an agreeing nod with his eyes on the road, "It's good you got to reconcile with them."

"It's getting there. My mom was a lot kinder than I deserved, but…I guess I should count my blessings for that. I invited her and my dad to come to the anniversary party, which I wanted to talk to you about."

Sam's lips curled slightly, "Oh boy. Are you gonna ask me if I'm going too?"

"You're damn right I am," she sassed back with her arms folding across her chest. "Tina's been keeping track of the RSVPs so we can make sure it's catered for enough people, but she hasn't received a confirmation from you yet."

Sam drummed a set of fingers across the top of the steering wheel and said, "I hadn't confirmed my attendance yet for two reasons. First, I need to confirm a babysitter for Danica first. And second, this didn't seem like the sort of thing to attend alone and I wanted to ask you later if you'd like to go with me, but you jumped the gun, killjoy."

When he added a smirk to his slight teasing, he glanced at her to find her rolling her eyes but smiling also.

"I'd love to go with you, Sam."

He tried to keep his smile as it was while he asked, "Really? I mean…I saw the news earlier so I wasn't sure if it was something you'd want to do…"

"I saw the news earlier too and you know what? He's getting what he deserves, and he doesn't get to dictate how I live my life anymore—_especially_ not from behind bars. As soon as this divorce is finalized and the trial for REAL ends, I will be completely and absolutely done with Shane Tinsley. Until then, I'm happy to move on and not worry about what other people think on how I go about doing it."

He gave a bit of an awestruck gaze at the road ahead of him from what all Mercedes was saying. There was an unmistakable fire in her voice that he was happy to see and hear. He wasn't sure how aware she was, but he was definitely aware of the difference morphing from the woman he'd met almost two months ago. To show his support for her newfound—or regained strength, he let his right hand abandon the steering wheel so that he could close it around her left. It remained there for the rest of their drive.

* * *

Sam had driven them all the way to Santa Monica. Mercedes smiled when they passed the pier—a place she and Puck used to visit in their college days, whenever they could afford to make the trip. But she and Sam hadn't parked near the pier, per se. Rather, he'd brought her car to one of the nearby beaches. When they got out of the car, Mercedes offered to carry something but Sam turned her offer down, sticking the basket and the blanket under his arm once more. After she came around the front of her car to join him at his side, he laced their fingers together again and led her across the uneven sand. They took their time to walk along the uneven terrain until Sam told her, "I think this is a good spot. The tide's still coming in so we shouldn't get too close to the water unless you wanna get soaked."

Mercedes chuckled once, "Uh, no." She liked the spot they had stopped at, though. It was plenty dark out but the moonlight, coupled with the multitude of lights from the pier were enough to keep them from fumbling around in complete darkness. Sam set the basket down and then promptly laid the blanket out; he reached for her hand and together they sat down. She couldn't stop smiling at the romantic setting and the simplicity of their date. It all felt so right, and so…_Sam_.

"So," he started while opening the basket. As he placed a bottle of Cider, two cups, a container of fruit, a box of Cheez-It's, a Ziploc of celery sticks and a container of Jiff peanut butter on the blanket, "Here's all the snacks, and for the main course…"

She watched with amusement and interest as both his hands disappeared into the basket and came back up with a small casserole dish. "Ta-daaa," he sang with a crooked smile, revealing a small lasagna dish. Mercedes' eyes bugged, "Wow. Wait how did you make lasagna without an oven?"

Sam rolled his eyes and set the fish back in the basket, "Don't underestimate the power of a microwave. I've made some pretty tasty meals with that thing."

She giggled softly, "Well I love it. All of this is just…amazing, Sam." After leaning across the basket, she pecked his lips and then helped herself to the Cheez-It's. "You haven't told me about your day yet, y'know."

He shrugged and gave her a slightly bigger smile, "Most of my day consisted of making dinner and dessert, but the rest of it was spent swimming and having a movie marathon with Dani. That girl is part fish—I'm convinced."

Mercedes laughed again, "Well I guess that's another thing she and I have in common. I love to swim."

He pried the lid off the fruit container as he told her, "You'll have to come with us on the weekend sometime then."

"I'm thinking you're right about that."

They smiled at each other and then picked at the different snacks Sam had brought until they both felt too hungry to be satiated by cheese crackers and celery. While Sam took the lasagna back out with some utensils, Mercedes opened the cider for the two of them. She fully admitted to being pleasantly surprised by how good the microwave lasagna actually was and complimented the chef with another peck on the lips.

When the two of them were down to merely picking at their lasagna with their forks, Sam told her, "Hey so, I wanted to talk to you…about…the orther day, in the elevator."

The corner of Mercedes' lips twitched but she kept herself composed. "Okay."

"I um…" The suddenly serious look on Sam's face made Mercedes panic for a moment; she wondered if he now felt that their romp was a mistake—that they'd jumped the gun on things there. Instead what she got was Sam confessing to her, "I wasn't protected that night…"

Her brows shot up. It wasn't something that she wasn't entirely unaware of but it wasn't what she was expecting him to say next.

"Were you…I mean do you take birth control or anything like that?" he asked.

Mercedes shook her head, "No…no I haven't taken birth control since I graduated college…" For whatever the reason, her admission of this had her cheeks warming up. She supposed that she could have just left it at "No," but the way she'd spoken it left something ominous lingering, so she blurted out the rest, hoping it sounded less grave.

Sam nodded twice, not looking at her as he did. "I'm clean too…just so you know."

"Yeah, I am too. Sam, I'm sorry but this is painfully awkward. I'm glad we're getting this all out in the open but I feel like we're 16, not 30."

Her abrasive tone made him look up at her again; after a few seconds of searching in her eyes he cracked a smile and quietly cackled. She heard him and laughed too, but the moment soon died and gave way to silence.

"What if…" started Sam again. "Yougot pregnant?"

There was a strong feeling in her gut that that question was coming down the pipe. After letting out a quiet sigh, she answered him. "Well I doubt it. According to Shane, I'm baron and in truth, I haven't been able to get pregnant in any of the years that he and I had tried but…if I get pregnant I can tell you one thing for certain." She clenched her teeth for a second and then told him, "The baby would have more love than it'd know what to do with."

The seriousness on Sam's face morphed as his mouth fell open slightly. His brows were low over his eyes like she had just recited all of the Rosetta Stone in those 13 words. "You…you mean…you'd wanna have a baby with me?"

Mercedes took another deep breath, "I've told you that I want you and Dani in my life, Sam. I can't help how I feel about you and it's hard for me to help how I_ am_ when I'm around either one of you. But if a baby were to result from our spontaneity as you put it, I wouldn't be mad. I wouldn't be sad, and I sure as hell wouldn't be trying to get rid of it. I would, however, own up to what we did, and I would hope and pray that I would be a good mother, and that you would want to be around as the father. And I would give the little boy or girl every ounce of love I'd have to give."

She didn't know what all was going through Sam's head as she stared in his eyes but when she finished telling him how she felt, she looked away immediately. Her mind was creating fantasies about he, Danica and her becoming a family over the bond of a potential baby. The image excited and terrified her at the same time. She quickly snapped out of her wondering because one of Sam's warm hands came over hers and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"You should know…I would never let you go through a pregnancy or parenthood alone. If you were pregnant with our child, I would be here as much as humanly possible. I'd figure out a way to explain to Danica, and I would be a father to both of them. Don't doubt your mothering skills though, Mercedes. You have something…innate when it comes to mothering. If anyone can attest to that, it's me." She smiled a bit at his compliment but her smile slowly faded as he added, "I'm sorry if I made things weird by bringing this up. I just…I wanted us to talk about it."

"It's fine—I was just kind of taken aback earlier, but…I'm glad you brought this up and that we were able to talk about it. I know we're throwing a lot of "if"s though so…until the "if"s become a legitimate concern for us, I say we just try to enjoy the rest of tonight."

He nodded, "I think I can do that," and moved the various picnic items out of the way so that he could stretch out on the blanket and bring Mercedes close to cuddle with him. She happily joined and smiled against his chest, but her mind was now subtly gnawing on their various "If"s. One "if" that she hadn't spoken aloud was, "_If I get pregnant…I couldn't wish for a better father than this man right here_."

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! Also, thank you to those who answered my question on Tumblr. I couldn't remember if I'd included this information on Mercedes' brother already or not and I wanted to make sure it wasn't forgotten. There will be more on him in the future. More of Sam's past will come up in upcoming chapters as well. Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll update soon! The masquerade party is also coming soon and very soon.**_

_**Chapter title: "Hurt" by Christina Aguilera**_


	15. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**-April-**

The last two weeks of March flew by in little time. Mercedes spent two long weekends looking at apartments and penthouses with Puck. The first weekend, after the first day of looking at a few places around Los Angeles, she sat alone in her hotel room again and called up her dad. Her conversation with him was similar to the one she had with her mother, though it lacked in the mutual sobbing. For one, Mercedes knew her father wasn't one to cry much if at all. Also, she felt more prepared for her talk with her dad after having spoken with her mom the previous day, so it was easier to keep her emotions in check.

During the weekdays at work, her schedule had been heavily booked with the anniversary preparations with Tina, and finalizing the distribution for _REAL_'s April Issue, which was now on newsstands and being mailed to homes and businesses around the country. The cover was a collage of past front cover issues in a mosaic that made out the number "5". The best part of keeping so busy was that it helped keep her mind off the prospect of being pregnant. She and Sam agreed that they would find out together, after the anniversary ball.

The morning before the issues were sent out, Mercedes sent out an email to her staff with strict instructions not to purchase a copy of the April issue; it would be included in their favors at the anniversary party. The only hiccup to come along her path was finding out, a week before the party, that Shane had been let out of jail on bail. Puck, Tina and Sam all expressed their concerns to her, and when she called her parents to keep them informed, they had the same worries for her. While Mercedes wondered how he was able to afford his bail, she assured all of them that she was not thinking or caring about Shane. The only ones that seemed to keep themselves as level-headed as she was trying to be, were Sebastian and Lauren.

"_He's going to get his comeuppance when we go to court. I'm not worried about him_." That was what she'd told each of them—sometimes more than once, until they picked up on the fact that she didn't want to talk about Shane.

The night before the party, Mercedes was on the phone with her parents when she finally told them about Sam and Danica.

"_So, Mom? Dad? Remember how I mentioned wanting you both to meet some people when you came out here?"_

"_Yes?" they both said in near unison, keeping her on speaker._

"_Well, one…actually two of them have become really special to me…"_

"_Mercedes?" her dad spoke in a confused and stunned tone._

"_You're seeing two men at once?" Mrs. Jones wrongfully assumed._

_Mercedes sighed, "No, Mom. I'm…I'm seeing one man. I have been for a couple months now."_

_There was a long pause before either of her parents spoke again; she felt the urge to bite her lip or tear at her fingernails—anything to keep her somewhat occupied from their deafening silence._

"_Baby, are you sure that's something you're ready for right now? You and Shane are newly divorced and…I wouldn't blame you for having any lingering feelings for him if you did but...regardless, is it fair for you to begin a relationship with someone new already?"_

"_Fair to who, Mom? Fair to me, or him?"_

"Both_ of you," her mother countered sternly._

_Mr. Jones chimed in, "Hold on, girls. Mercedes, you said _two _people were really special to you. Who's the other person?"_

_At this, Mercedes did clamp her lips together and drew in a deep breath before answering. "Yeah um...he has a daughter."_

"_Really?" her mother piped up, sounding wary. "How old is his daughter?"_

"_Four. Mom she's the sweetest thing on the planet, and she struggled with my name the first time she met me so she calls me Miss Cedes instead of Mercedes."_

_Her lips were spread into a smile that soon faded when her dad's voice came through the receiver._

"_What does this man do to take care of her?"_

_This was the part Mercedes anticipated more than anything when telling her parents about Sam—the barrage of inquiries. She was patient through each and every one—if he was a good father, if he'd been treating her and his daughter right, if he has family of his own and what they think of their relationship, how he feels about being with her so abruptly following her split, and so-on. Though it became a bit testing after some time, Mercedes reminded herself that they were looking out for her best interests, and their curiosity over anyone she might move on with after Shane would be as sharp as a hawk from now on. After getting through some of their questions, she interjected a new inquiry and told them, "Listen, why don't you save some of these questions for Sam when you meet him? We're going to the party together, and I was thinking the five of us could have lunch or something the day after."_

"_Sounds fine by me," spoke Mrs. Jones._

"_Yeah, I wanna meet this cat—make sure he's not gonna hurt you," mumbled Mr. Jones._

_Mercedes smiled, thankful that her parents hadn't come down on her too harshly for her involvement with Sam. They hadn't officially given themselves their blessing but they at least seemed willing to give Sam a chance._

* * *

When the day of the masquerade arrived, Mercedes awoke, possessing a ball of feelings; excited, nervous, anxious and most of all—ready. Her agenda consisted of meeting with her parents once they arrived at the hotel, having brunch with them and Danica, and then going into full preparation mode for the masquerade; manicure, pedicure, wax, hair, make-up, dressing and making time for press before appearing inside the party. After having talked it over with Sam, Mercedes planned to take Danica with her to the salons for some girl time before Rachel and Finn came to watch her for the night. When they told Danica, she didn't hold back on squealing her excitement for "Dani and Miss Cedes' Girls' Day".

Mercedes recalled this as she brushed her teeth and showered; she dressed in a white, sleeveless wraparound sundress with large purple floral prints. After slipping her feet in a pair of purple pumps, brushing her hair back into a low ponytail and slipping a couple of silver bangles up her wrists, she gathered up her phone and purse and left for Sam and Danica's room. On her way, she received a text from her mom that read, "_We're here_." She took a deep breath and let it noisily go before texting back a simple, "_OK_."

She arrived at Sam and Danica's room and knocked, slipping her phone back inside her purse. Her nervousness was starting to outweigh her readiness at the thought of seeing her parents for the first time in years but she found it a bit easy to push the nervousness back down once the door opened and Sam smiled at her.

"Hey there, beautiful!" With one hand on the door frame and the other clutching the door, he leaned out of the room and pecked her on the lips. "Danica's just putting her shoes on and then she'll be ready."

He stepped aside so Mercedes could see little Danica sitting in the middle of the floor, carefully laying the Velcro strap across her pink and white light-up shoes. Her long, light brown hair was also drawn back into a ponytail with purple barrettes and Sam had dressed her in pink shorts and a pink, purple and white plaid shirt

"I took her car seat out last night for you. It's really simple to install—just thread the seatbelt through the loops here on the back and then buckle this lap part across here." Sam pointed to each part as he explained it and then went to hand off the pink Rapunzel-themed car seat but Danica had sped over, reached for it and tugged.

"I could do it, Daddy!" she chirped, hugging the seat in front of herself while she waddled to the door.

Mercedes smiled wide as Sam asked his daughter, "I don't get a 'goodbye' hug or anything?"

Danica set the car seat down and then immediately clung her arms around Sam's legs. Sam smiled and hoisted her off the ground to give her a proper hug and a few kisses on her cheek. "I love you, Princess. You be good for Miss Cedes today, okay? Hold her hand when you go places and listen to what she tells you."

"Okie, Daddy," she said, hugging him quickly around the neck and then letting go to get back to her car seat.

Sam set her to her feet before she practically leaped out of his arms, and repeated, "I love you."

"I love you too!" she said back, carting her seat out the front door with an obvious waddle in her step.

Mercedes giggled and Sam shook his head but smiled after her. "We'll be back before 5," she told him. "My phone will be on if you wanna call and talk to her or vice versa."

"Thanks for doing this, Mercedes. I know she's been excited for her girls day."

"We're gonna have a good time," she promised with a smile and then leaned in to give him one quick kiss on the lips. "See you later, Sam."

Mercedes and Danica made their way downstairs just as Mr. and Mrs. Jones were being handed their card keys. Mercedes' heart thumped loudly at the sight of her parents—who frankly hadn't changed much since she'd last seen them. Her father was still a tall but burly man with salt and pepper peach fuzz on his dome and a similar-colored mustache. Mrs. Jones was short like her daughter with the same doe-like eyes and affinity for weaves. Her physique was a wide, pear shape and like Mercedes, she also carried her full figure with confidence. Mr. Jones had been the first of the two to see her and Danica, but Mercedes saw him subtly nudge his wife and nod in their direction. Mercedes had relieved Danica of carrying the car seat while they were in the elevator so that they could hold hands; she involuntarily gave Danica's hand a quick, gentle squeeze when her mom made eye contact with her.

"There they are," she whispered to herself.

"That's your Mommy and Daddy?" asked Danica.

Mercedes nodded and quietly echoed back, "Yeah…that's my Mommy and Daddy."

Mrs. Jones didn't waste another second. She left her husband's side and rushed to their daughter. Mercedes stopped walking and set the car seat down just in time to meet her mom's tight embrace with a strong, one-armed hug—her other hand occupied with holding Danica's hand.

"My baby," Mrs. Jones breathed against Mercedes' shoulder.

Mercedes hugged her mom back, pushing past the awkwardness as best she could. As she pulled away to hug her father next, she heard her mom ask, "Who's this little lady?"

Mercedes looked back, mid-embrace and smiled, "Mom, Dad this is Danica—Sam's daughter. Danica, this is my mom and dad."

Danica moved to hide herself halfway behind Mercedes' legs but couldn't resist at least giving them both a shy wave.

Mr. Jones chuckled heartily, "Hey there little lady. How old are you?"

Danica held up four fingers while simultaneously mouthing the number.

"Well, she certainly is adorable," agreed Mrs. Jones with a friendly smile. She then brought her eyes on her own daughter and asked, "When will we get to meet her father?"

Knowing that the question was coming, Mercedes told them, "Not until later. Right now, Danica and I are going to have our girls' day but I promise I'll come find you two before tonight.

Mrs. Jones put her hands on her hips, arching a brow at her daughter but also smirking, "A girls day, hm? Guess I'm too grown for that, aren't I?"

"Never," Mercedes replied with a smile. "I just didn't want Danica to feel nervous since I promised this to her a while ago.

"It's fine. I can tell that this city is plenty busy—I don't need to be running all over it with y'all. Have fun and we'll see you later."

With a nod and a slight smile, Mercedes continued on, hand-in-hand with Danica.

* * *

Mercedes and Danica sat inside a small nail salon for over an hour. They had just come from Mercedes' favorite hair salon; her hair was parted at the center of her head, with most of it twisted in pin curls that spilled over her shoulders. Danica, on the other hand, was currently sporting an elaborate up'do that intentionally resembled a crown. While Mercedes was treating herself to a pedicure, the young girl sat in one of the vacant chairs beside her and asked her why none of the Disney princesses wore purple. Amused by the question, Mercedes maintained a very business-like tone for the small girl and said, "Well…Jasmine wore purple when she and Aladdin got married."

Danica's lips and nose scrunched, "But how come they don't wear purple _more_? If I was a Disney princess I wanna have a big purple dress!"

There was nothing about this little girl that Mercedes didn't adore. She smiled and listened after asking Danica, "What would this pretty purple dress look like?"

Knowing she had opened a can of worms with that question, she remained attentive as more and more accessories were added to this pretend dress. Beads and bows and "flower things like Tiana!" were discussed while the nail beautician painted Mercedes' toes a deep purple; she opted on a clean French tip for her fingers while Danica's nails were painted with alternating pink and purple colors. As they sat in the salon, however, Mercedes felt a nauseating lurch in her stomach that made her face sour. She drew in a deep breath but inhaling the smell of acetone and acrylics only made things worse. Her brows furrowed, frustrated by the sudden displeasure her insides were having to being in the salon. To her personal gratitude, however, they were nearly finished so she attempted to distract herself by talking to Danica some more.

"What do you feel like having for lunch today, Dani?"

Danica tapped her freshly coated index to her chin, "Ummmmm….pizza!"

Mercedes chuckled softly, "I should have known. Alright, pizza it is. Then we'll go back to the hotel so you can see your daddy before tonight and I can put my dress on."

Excited by this, Dancia beamed, "Okay!"

"Did you have fun today, Dani?" Mercedes asked, hiding the genuine concern from her voice.

Danica nodded eagerly, "Uh-huh! I like my hair lots! Could we do this again, Miss Cedes?"

Mercedes' heart-shaped lips curved up, "Of course. We'll have another fun girls' day sometime."

"Yay!" cheered Danica. She started to prattle on to Mercedes about any and everything she could think of, and while Mercedes did her best to keep up, she could feel the abrupt, ill feeling returning. She hadn't forgotten about her possibility of being pregnant, but she'd begun to pray with fervor that she would not get sick tonight. She could hurl some other night, but not tonight. And when she bought the pizza and returned to the hotel to bring Dani home, her brief time spent raise suspicion and concern onto Sam's face. She could see it so blatantly but hadn't told him anymore than, "We'll talk later," in regard to her hasty leave.

For the moment she spent alone, getting herself ready, Mercedes stood in front of the closet doors, which doubled as full body mirrors. Having chosen a chiffon gown, she was now wearing a cream-colored, single shoulder dress with a champagne colored empire waist belted pattern stitched around. She smoothed her hands down her sides, running her palms over her hips a few times while she turned to the side. Her brows pulled together as she imagined herself with an obviously pregnant stomach. One set of her fingers smoothed over her belly button after she moved it from her hip, all the while watching her actions in the mirror. Was she ready for a baby? How was Danica going to react, were she to be pregnant? Would she and Sam be good parents together? Was her mom right—were she and Sam moving too fast? Was she falling into the same pattern as when she met Shane?

_Knock, knock, knock_…!

Mercedes jumped—her heartbeat picking up almost instantly. She checked her hair and makeup one more time and then went to answer her door. As she expected, Sam was standing on the other side, wearing a sleek black tuxedo with sleeves that were slightly too long and pant legs that were rolled in a few times. In his left hand was a black mask. Lips parted, Mercedes looked back up to his face with a slow-growing smile.

Sam, on the other hand, grimaced slightly at her and explained, "It's Finn's. I know it looks a little stupid but the cost to rent wa—"

He was cut off by Mercedes' newly polished finger pressing over his lips. She smiled at him and lowered her finger away. "You look very handsome tonight, Sam. I can't wait to dance with you." And as she stared up into his sage eyes, her apprehensions danced around in her head, but she did her best not to show it. Sam truly did look handsome in the tuxedo; his semi-lengthy bangs were slicked back and the ends near his neck looked freshly cut. On top of that, Mercedes' nose was taking in the familiar cologne smell coming from him—the same smell she inhaled from his pillows.

"You're nervous about meeting my parents, aren't you?" she asked after a brief moment of wordlessness between them.

Averting his gaze, Sam mumbled, "Well, yeah. I dunno what they already know about me—ex baseball player with a bum knee and a child he can sometimes afford to take care of? Yeah it doesn't exactly warm every parents' heart, I'm sure. And given what you've been going through, I don't want them to jump to conclusions about me trying to take you for the money you make or anything like that."

For a second, Mercedes clenched her jaw but she quickly relaxed it and told him, "My parents know that I care greatly for you. They know that you do what you have to do to provide for a daughter that you love very much, and that you've been nothing short of wonderful to me. Anything else they might know about you, they'll find out directly from the horse's mouth tonight."

After letting his lop-sided smile return, Sam leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lightly glossed lips. By the time he pulled away, Mercedes' cheeks were on fire, and the crooked smile he cast her only fueled that flame.

"You look and are truly breath-taking, ma'am. Thank you for soothing my nerves about your folks a bit. I'll let the rest of my nerves be from courting the most stunning woman in the room tonight. Are you ready to go?"

Grinning softly, smitten by his southern charm, she turned back to grab her golden mask and clutch, and then left the room escorted by her date. The apprehensions she asked herself in the mirror were still sashaying in her mind—taunting her uplifted mood, but she did her best to bed them for now. Just for one more night.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! I am deeply sorry that this took me so long to write and get published to . Things are kind of crazy right now between work, school, home stuff and bouncing around between 3 rpgs on Tumblr. I promise you all that even though I'm operating at a snail's pace these days, I have no plans of abandoning any of my fics. I will have to have caught amnesia or worse for that to ever happen. Thank you all for the support and love! I'm hoping to work on the next chapter very soon!**_

_**Chapter Title: "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper**_


	16. I've Got You

**-April-**

Mercedes and Sam arrived at the masquerade-themed event, linked at the bend of their elbows. Thanks to Tina taking the helm on the event planning, there was a gold, silver and black color scheme throughout the hotel's ballroom. A couple of REAL's college interns sat at the greeting table while two others were monitoring a table full of goody bags on the opposite side of the doors. All the women in the room donned floor-length gowns while the men were all in black suits. A loose cluster of couples were pressed chest to chest while a small orchestra gave them music to sway to. Others floated about the room, mingling with one another and visiting the catered buffet table.

An undeniable lurch in the pit of Mercedes' stomach made one of her hands move there while she sucked in a noiseless breath. She soon brought a smile back to her face with little effort needed while she was approached. Tina and her husband were the first of the masked attendees to wander over. Although her mask hid much of her face, enough of it was seen for Mercedes to know Tina's smile reached her eyes. For a moment Tina rose to her feet to whisper something into Mike's ear and adjust his bow tie, but she soon spoke up once she stopped in front of Mercedes and Sam.

"Yep, that dress was definitely the one," Tina said with a long nod to

Mercedes chuckled a few times, "Thanks, Tina—you look gorgeous, and Mike you look so handsome."

"Thank you, Mercedes!" He replied with a smile of his own and a friendly tug at the shoulders of his tux jacket.

Before silence and curious—and possibly knowing—eyes could fall on Sam, Mercedes turned to him, placing one hand kindly over the lapel nearest to her, "Tina, Mike this is Sam Evans—Sam, this is my assistant, Tina Chang. You guys might have already met..?"

Tina eagerly extended a hand, "Not formally, no but it's nice to finally meet you. This is my husband, Mike."

While the two men shook hands and murmured greetings to one another, Mercedes caught Tina wink at her. She was getting ready to ask Tina if she'd seen Puck yet but Tina spoke up first.

"So Sam! Mercedes told me you have a daughter?"

Sam nodded while resisting the nervous habit of combing his fingers through his hair, "Oh, yeah she's at home with my best friend and his girl."

"We're parents too," Tina told him. "Newly, actually!"

"Congratulations," replied Sam followed by a slightly lop-sided smile.

Mike managed to utter a, "Thanks," before Tina dove into inquiries about Danica and demands to see pictures.

The conversation between the three carried on effortlessly, primarily exchanging stories about being parents. Mercedes quietly mused at how engrossed Tina had been, and laughed to herself while recalling her dear friend's former persistence to test Sam. Her amusement faltered, however, when she looked at the window between where Tina and Sam stood to find her parents approaching. Their expressions were as cautious as their attire was elegant. With each step Mrs. Jones took, her midnight blue dress glimmered; Mr. Jones' hands were lost in the depths of his black steam-pressed pants.

It wasn't until she felt Sam's elbow lightly nudge her that Mercedes realized her grip around his arm had tightened significantly. She looked away from her parents to her surrounding company to find them all gazing at her—conversation, ceased. The three pairs of eyes followed where hers had previously been, only to soon return to their small cluster.

"Your parents came," Tina said. It hadn't been a question, but rather a surprised observation.

Sam was looking down at her and quietly asked, "The moment of truth, hm?" with a slightly uneasy smile.

Mercedes rubbed his arm, "Yeah, but… don't feel too pressured."

"You just got out of your past relationship, Mercedes," he muttered back, uneasy smile gone.

"I know that. I was just trying to help calm you down."

"I get that, but there's pressure. I can't act like there isn't."

While letting his stern words sink in, Mercedes heard Mike speak up, "Uh..T, I think I saw Brittany and Santana come in and I haven't seen them since REAL's holiday party."

"Bu—ohhh, okay, yeah let's go."

The couple excused themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Jones approached. Mrs. Jones reached them just ahead of her husband with a small smile on her lips. "Mercedes, you look beautiful, Sweetheart." Her mother's smile barely reached her eyes when she turned her eyes up from her face to Sam's. "And you must be…"

"Sam. Evans. Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

With an unchanged smile, Mrs. Jones offered her hand and nodded to her right, "This is my husband."

Sam quickly pushed the too-long sleeve up and shook Mrs. Jones' hand while nodded, "How do you do, sir?" to Mr. Jones.

"Mr. Jones is fine," Mercedes' father said, replacing his wife's hand in Sam's with a firm shake.

The same nervous churning started again in Mercedes' stomach while the silence that followed the four quickly turned awkward. She wanted to speak up and break the quiet, but the troubles her insides were giving her hindered her from a quick save. Instead it was Sam who broke the ice by asking, "So how was your flight out here?"

"Not too bad," Mrs. Jones answered, adding a shrug of her shoulder.

"Yeah you can't really complain much if there was no turbulence and no crying babies right behind you for the flight," Mr. Jones added with a few light chuckles. After clearing his throat, Mr. Jones rocked once on his heels, "So Sam, Mercedes told us you used to play baseball?"

A bit of light flickered in Sam's eyes but it left as soon as it arrived. His former career wasn't completely off limits for him to discuss, but it was incredibly low on his personal ranking of preferable discussions. To avoid tarnishing this first impression he offered Mr. Jones one dry chuckle before answering. "Yeah I did." He reached down and gave his knee a quick pat, "Knee injury ended that though."

"That's a shame," Mrs. Jones noted.

"Sure is," Mr. Jones said while adjusting the mask on his face to properly size up the blonde in front of him. "Bet you were good. Where were you usually at out on the field?"

"Left Field or Shortstop. But sir—"

"Ah Left Field. Must mean you've got a mean throwing arm. Alright now the easy questions: who's your favorite team?"

Sam's breath taken in to answer was overtaken by Mrs. Jones and for a brief moment he was relieved. "I think that's enough of the baseball questions for now, dear." While slowly squaring her shoulders and poising herself in front of Sam, Mrs. Jones asked, "What intentions do you have when it comes to our daughter?"

"Mercedes, are you feeling alright, baby doll?" her father asked before Sam could do more than part his lips.

Again, all eyes fell on Mercedes as she bore an unpleasant look on her face.

"I'm fine," she insisted, sliding her hand away from her front before adding, "Just nervous."

Sam rested a hand on her shoulder—not unaware of the smoldering gaze coming from Mrs. Jones. He ignored it for the time being and asked Mercedes, "Nervous about wha—oh, you have your speech to give, right?"

"I—oh, right. Yeah I'm just waiting for P—"

"Testing," Puck muttered, followed by three blunt taps on the microphone grille that silenced the orchestra and the party's attendees. While smoothing down the sides of his Armani jacket and settling a hand inside his pocket, Puck rested the other hand on the podium before him. "Um, hi everyone. I'm Noah Puckerman for those who don't know. Vice President for _REAL_, and good friends with Ms. Mercedes Jones." He looked about the room until locking eyes with his best friend, and then tugged his lips up slightly. "See without Mercedes, REAL wouldn't even exist, and let's be real—none of us would have a job." The room filled with low chuckles and Puck went on. "But seriously, I'm proud of this company. I'm glad to be amongst creative and motivated colleagues and friends, and especially appreciative that all of us have a great captain at the helm of this ship. And for those wondering, yes I said shi_p_." His lips popped at the "p", leading to more chuckles and giggles throughout the room. "Without further ado, I'd like to invite Mercedes up for a few words."

The room's trickle of claps quickly turned to unanimous applause as Mercedes wove her way through the crowd and to the stage. Swallowing back the nausea as much as possible, she stepped up to the microphone with a few gratuitous nods to all of the attendees.

"Good evening everyone, and thank you for coming tonight." Mercedes paused while keeping a steady grip on the podium. Her eyes surveyed the room of masked bodies while she went on, but she knew exactly where to look if her emotions got the better of her. "I also wanted to apologize to each and every one of you here amongst my staff. I've lied to you all—whether you've worked for me for five years or five days, I mean this apology with every fiber of my being." Confused murmurs began but Mercedes spoke over them. "You see, when I started this company and this magazine, the name REAL was important to me. The acronym was something I was not only proud of, but I wanted to live by it and hopefully influence the readers to want to do the same—to recognize, to remember and embrace all lives. And in the five years of the magazine's existence, we've featured men and women with their own stories regarding different backgrounds, beliefs, lifestyles, and secrets.

"I held a secret of my own for the past four years." After another pause passed, Mercedes swallowed hard and told her guests, "for the past four years, I was the victim of abuse." She resisted the strong urge to drop her gaze and instead took a deep breath and looked straight to her parents. "Until very recently, I didn't tell anyone what I was going through, but my silence let my experiences escalate to where I couldn't hide anymore." With another brief moment taken, Mercedes filled her lungs slowly, and silently let much of the air back out. "I won't divulge all the details of my past. Much of what I went through in the past is in the magazine, but it was important to me to remember, and to have all of you remember that tonight is first and foremost a celebration. To piggyback off of what Noah said, this company would not be what it is or where it is right now without all of you. I'm proud of what it's become and look forward to what the future holds for us, and I want to thank you all for giving me that feeling. Yes, I've put a lot into REAL, but it wouldn't be where it is without its journalists, editors, photographers, assistants, interns, security, maintenance, investors and readers. So, thank you all for letting this vision thrive, and here's to many more years together. Thank you."

Her plump cheeks rose behind her mask as the party's guests erupted into applause with a few whoops here and there. Santana gave her two thumbs up while Brittany stood beside her with her hands cupped around her mouth. Kurt clapped away while whispering something into Sugar's ear that had her beaming through her applauds. Puck stood close with Quinn at his side—the two clapping while they looked up to her. He winked at her, triggering a wider smile while she left the stage and the orchestra proceeded with the night's melodic entertainment.

It took Mercedes a bit longer to get through the crowd this time, as she was often stopped or pulled aside by colleagues and friends to talk or be hugged and congratulated. Somewhere along the way, mid-embrace with the husband of one of her editors, she involuntarily inhaled the potent odor of Axe cologne. Her stomach lurched again and rather than playing it off, she stiffly stepped away and excused herself from further socializing. She pushed past a few people, keeping her head down while narrowing her thoughts to finding the nearest restroom. In passing the greeting tables, she heard her mother's voice call her name with curiosity or concern—she couldn't tell the difference at the moment and she didn't stop to find out which one it was.

With one hand gathering up the skirt of her gown and the other hand cupped to her mouth, Mercedes made haste out of the ballroom. She had yet to eat dinner but could feel the small lunch she'd had with Dani rising up her throat. Just as she about to forfeit her unguided steps and wretch there in the hallway, a pair of large, sure hands came down on her shoulders and directed her to their immediately right. One of his hands left her shoulder to force a door open in time for Mercedes to dash away to the nearest stall and wretch.

"Stupid question," Sam started after it seemed she was done—his voice echoing inside the ladies' room, "but are you okay?"

"You shouldn't be in here," Mercedes responded in a dreadfully hoarse tone once her mouth was clear to speak.

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled once, silently. "You shouldn't go back to avoiding my questions," he calmly countered. His dress shoes scoffed across the tile floor and stopped in front of the closed stall. "I don't think anyone else is in here right now anyway, and I don't think they'd mind since I'm just checking up on you."

Mercedes didn't respond as her hand reached out, groping for some toilet paper to wad and wipe her mouth with. She tossed it in and rose to her feet just before the auto-flush, and as she turned to leave, Sam pushed the stall door open. She grimaced, her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

"You know," he lowered his voice significantly as though they _weren't_ the only ones in the bathroom, "This isn't my first time going through this."

It only took Mercedes a second—if that—to realize what he was talking about. Her lips pursed, settled in their frown while she stared up in Sam's sincere eyes. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they were watery, more than before. "So you think I'm pregnant too?"

Sam dipped his head in a few nods and licked his lips, "Does someone else think that?"

Mercedes shrugged while shaking her head and steadily replying, "Just me. I haven't told anyone else about that being a possibility."

"Well…" Sam stepped back out of the stall, offering a hand to Mercedes. "There's only so many ways to find out."

Before accepting his hand, Mercedes snatched up a bit more toilet paper to dab her eyes. "I know," she told him. She took one more deep breath and placed her hand in his as she left the stall. "Not tonight though."

"Do you think you'll be alright in there for the rest of the night?"

"I really don't know but I have to try. And you still have some people to meet. But at least this time if I leave, I'll know where the bathroom is."

Sam chuckled a few times, "Yeah." He held the door open for her and started to escort her back to the ballroom with his usual limp, but his head was bent beside hers to murmur, "Hey, either way—I want to be there, alright?"

While their arms were linked at the elbows again, Mercedes took his hand in both of hers and gave it a quick squeeze, coupled with a nod of her head. "Tomorrow."

He snuck in a quick kiss to the side of her head before pulling one of the doors open for them to rejoin the party.

* * *

_**Please leave reviews! I am so very sorry it's taken me eons to get this updated. I'm hoping to update more frequently again, but thank you all for your patience with me and your devotion to this fic! I've still got some things in store for these folks.**_

_**Chapter title: "I've Got You" by McFly**_


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